


metachronism

by strangegoingson



Series: anachronism [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Multi, Time Travel, Uzushiogakure | Hidden Eddy Village
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-09-06 10:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangegoingson/pseuds/strangegoingson
Summary: A series of shorts related to the events of anachronism.





	1. Nawanuke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nawanuke has always been a troublesome kid; now his troubles are about to get a little more serious. Set during chapter 21 of anachronism.

“I’m home,” Tsunade called, into a house that didn’t respond.

Not unusual, really. Kogane was almost always out on missions these days—he hadn’t told her he was ANBU, but she knew. Heiwa was a quiet kid and tended to tuck herself into some forgotten corner and read for hours. Nawanuke was the loud one, but he was usually outside, playing in the yard under the supervision of one of the few remaining members of the Senju household—so long as he hadn’t escaped them, that was. Most of them seemed to have given up on watching him for more than a few minutes at a time. Which was fine, Tsunade supposed. He was five years old already—hell, at that age she’d been getting ready to head into warzones. Nawanuke would survive playing in the yard on his own.

Tsunade slipped off her shoes and, as she stepped into her house slippers, looked up and happened to glance down one of the hallways leading deeper into the house.

Her heart stopped.

There, on the floor, lay a small body with a head of messy, blond hair.

Tsunade ran forwards, forgetting the slippers, tripping over the step in her haste. “Nawaki,” she gasped, turning over the body.

Nawanuke’s head lolled, unsupported. Tsunade felt for a pulse, her fingers trembling against his small, fragile neck.

Nothing.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she focused her chakra and quickly examined him. Maybe she wasn’t too late. His heart had stopped, but his body was still warm. Tsunade forced herself to breath slowly as she ran her hands across his body, trying to find the source of the problem.

After a moment, she began to recognize a pattern. There wasn’t a problem anywhere, but his body had started to shut down.

It was a condition she was intimately familiar with.

There was also nothing she could do, other than fix the damage to his body and wait.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, with her hands over Nawanuke’s small body, until all at once Nawanuke’s heart started, his lungs expanded, and he shot upright with a shocked gasp.

Tsunade gathered him into her arms. “You’re okay,” she said, running a hand up and down his trembling back. “I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

He looked up at her with wide, brown eyes. “M-mom? What happened?”

Tsunade took a deep breath. So he probably hadn’t done it on purpose—on one hand, at least her son knew better than to mess around with powerful techniques he didn’t understand. On the other hand, if he had done it accidentally, they had another problem on their hands. “That was the Spirit Release,” she said. “Your father’s technique. Your spirit leaves your body. It is very, very dangerous. Nawanuke, did you do it on purpose?”

Nawanuke shook his head.

Tsunade sighed. She’d almost hoped that he had. At least then it would be a simple matter of scolding him for his foolishness, maybe giving him some suitable training to do so he would be too busy to even think of attempting higher-level techniques.

Accidentally doing the Spirit Release, however? That was something she hadn’t even known was possible.

What if Nawanuke hadn’t been able to figure out how to get back into his body? What if he’d been doing something more dangerous than walking down the hallway, like climbing a tree? Hell, even a table could have been dangerous in that situation, if he’d fallen and hit his head hard enough on the corner. The other Senju and attendants in the household were supposed to keep an eye on Heiwa and Nawanuke while she and Dan were at work, but what if they didn’t? Today, she’d come home at just the right time to find him, but what if he had collapsed while she was in the middle of her shift and no one had found him for hours?

Dan knew not to use the Spirit Release too much because of the damage it caused; so far, Tsunade had always been able to fix whatever damage the technique had done to his body. But she didn’t know what it would do to a child, especially one incapable of controlling it. Would it happen once a week? Once a day? Multiple times a day?

She didn’t know, and she didn’t like it.

Still holding Nawanuke, Tsunade stood, not giving him a chance to run off. “Nawanuke, where’s your sister?”

Nawanuke wriggled in her arms. He hated being restrained, or even just held, for any length of time. “In her room reading, I dunno, lemme down!”

As Nawanuke attempted to escape, Tsunade made her way to Heiwa’s room. To her relief, Heiwa was clearly in her room; Tsunade could hear her speaking from down the hallway.

“Nidaime-sama,” she said, carefully enunciating each syllable. “Please explain to the council your thoughts behind the current administration.” She was quiet for a moment. “I understand your reasoning, but the system needs to be streamlined.”

Tsunade knocked on the frame of the door. Heiwa looked up at her; she was sitting alone in the middle of her room, facing a trio of stuffed animals. “How’s the meeting going, Advisor-san?”

Heiwa shook her head seriously. “No good. Uchiha-san and Nidaime-sama are going to fight again.”

“Well, how about you call a recess and give them some time to cool down? This meeting has to be relocated to Sensei’s house.”

After a moment, Heiwa nodded. “The council agrees. Sensei-jii-san can talk sense into Uchiha-san.”

Nawanuke had taken to biting Tsunade’s arm in the time she had been speaking to Heiwa. “Pack up your council members,” Tsunade said. “Murata-san will take you there. I’m taking Nawanuke to the hospital.”

“I don’t wanna go to the hospital!” Nawanuke screeched, kicking and flailing with renewed vigor. 

Nawanuke had gained an intense dislike of the hospital ever since she’d taken him for his shots the month before, a couple weeks after his birthday. He’d taken one look at the needle and thrown a fit; evidently the memory hadn’t faded yet. 

“You’re going,” she said, firmly. “Heiwa, be good for Sensei.” 

Heiwa nodded resolutely. 

Tsunade left her to her packing and looked Nawanuke in the eyes. “I can either put you down, and you can walk next to me to the hospital, or I can carry you there. What’ll it be?” 

Nawanuke screamed. “No hospital!” 

Tsunade sighed and adjusted her hold on him. “Carrying it is.” 

Nawanuke in hand, Tsunade left the Senju compound, with a brief word to Murata-san at the gate, and made her way to the hospital. Eventually, Nawanuke tired himself out and stopped screaming and thrashing, settling inside for sulkily scowling at the sky and occasionally kicking her. He regained some energy when she walked into the hospital, so she quickly escaped the lobby before he could start screaming. 

Dan’s office, thankfully, wasn’t far; Tsunade made her way there and plopped Nawanuke down in Dan’s lap before either of them could notice what she was doing. Nawanuke, thankfully, was so surprised at being released that he forgot to scream about being in the hospital. 

“Nawanuke just did the Spirit Release,” Tsunade said, before Nawanuke could work himself up again. 

“Wow! That’s amazing, Nawanuke. Good job,” Dan said. “Did Kogane help you? He was only a little bit older than you when I taught him, I think. . .” 

“ _ Accidentally.”  _

Dan blinked at her owlishly. Nawanuke took the opportunity to wriggle off Dan’s lap and run off to try to get the door open. It had a seal-based lock, thankfully, so he probably wouldn’t succeed. “Accidentally? You can’t do the Spirit Release accidentally.” 

“Apparently, you can,” Tsunade said. “I came home and Nawanuke was collapsed in the hallway. He gave me a heart attack.”

She sighed and brushed her bangs away from her face. “I was hoping it was something you would have heard of. I guess I’ll have to run some tests, see if I can find out what caused it. Nawanuke!” 

Nawanuke paused in the middle of trying to yank the door open. “What?” 

“I have to run some tests on you,” she said. 

Nawanuke looked at her suspiciously. “No needles?” 

“There might be some needles.” 

Nawanuke’s face screwed up, a clear sign he was getting ready to scream. “If you’re good for the tests, I’ll let you stay home from school on Monday,” she said. 

That stopped him in his tracks. It was a toss-up as to which he hated more, school or the hospital. “Can I have ice cream?”

“You can have ice cream,” she agreed. 

This bargain in mind, Nawanuke bore the tests with surprising grace; he sulked his way through the scans and blood-drawings and chakra tests and visits to experts, but he didn’t scream or try to kick anyone so Tsunade counted it as a win. 

The tests, unfortunately, were inconclusive. No one had any idea what could cause a child to accidentally activate a clan technique; even the Yamanaka, with their similar techniques, couldn’t think of any such instances. 

“You might need to just work on his chakra control,” Inoichi told her, as Nawanuke ate his ice cream and glared at Inoichi’s daughter. “That would probably help.” 

Tsunade sighed. “Dan and I wanted to wait to get them started on shinobi techniques.” 

Inoichi nodded and stroked his daughter’s hair. “I’m doing the same with Ino. Times have changed since I was a kid--probably even more for you.” 

“Are you implying I’m old? Brat,” she said. “Kogane was a little different--he latched onto the shinobi arts pretty much immediately, and hasn’t cared about anything else ever since. Heiwa’s beginning to show an interest in it too. She’s been reading all the old clan journals. But Nawanuke hasn’t seemed to care about it at all. I wasn’t sure he’d even want to be a shinobi.” 

Inoichi laughed. “I know the feeling. Right now, Ino wants to be a princess. She refuses to wear anything that isn’t pink, purple, or sparkly. When I was her age, I was already training with Chouza and Shikaku.” 

She sighed and looked down at Nawanuke, who had finished his ice cream and was instead doing something with the dirt and his spoon. “I wanted to avoid pushing him down this path so young. But I guess it can’t be helped.” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Inoichi said. “Let me know if you need help running any tests. Princess, time to go!” 

Ino flounced over and latched onto Inoichi’s hand, babbling a mile a minute. Smiling indulgently down at her, Inoichi led her off. 

Tsunade crouched down next to Nawanuke, who had stopped playing with the dirt in favor of picking at the bandaid on his arm, covering the spot where they had drawn blood. “Ready to head home?” 

“No,” Nawanuke said. 

‘No’ was Nawanuke’s favorite word. 

“I guess Kogane’s going to have to eat all your dessert, then,” she said. 

“Liar! Kogane isn’t home,” Nawanuke said. 

Tsunade laughed softly. “You caught me. He’s still not home.” 

Nawanuke scowled and scratched at the dirt with the spoon again. “When’s Kogane coming home?” 

Tsunade sighed and looked away. “He'll be home soon, Nawanuke. He's--Nawanuke Senju, you spit that out this instant!” 

Nawanuke looked at her, narrowed his eyes, and swallowed the spoonful of dirt he had just shoveled into his mouth. 

Tsunade smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. “Nawanuke, why?” 

“‘Cause I wanted to,” he said, his second favorite phrase. 

Tsunade sighed. “Okay, we're going home. We have to pick up Heiwa from Sensei's house on the way. And since you're so eager to eat, I expect you to finish all your vegetables tonight.” 

“Mom, no!” 

Tsunade grabbed him under the armpits and swung him through the air, turning his whine into a gleeful shriek. “Mom, yes!” 

“Mom, nooooooo!” Nawanuke screeched as she continued to swing him through the air as she walked to Sarutobi-sensei's place. They got some annoyed looks along the way, but Tsunade ignored them in favor of tossing Nawanuke into the air and catching him on the way down. 

By the time they reached the Sarutobi house, Nawanuke was kicking at the empty air and demanding, “Mom, again! Do it again!”

“Thanks for looking after Heiwa, sensei,” Tsunade said. 

Hiruzen smiled and set a gentle hand on Heiwa's head. “We had a good afternoon, didn't we, Heiwa-chan? With your rabbit?” 

Heiwa nodded; Uchiha-san, her favorite councilor, was clutched in her arms.”It was very productive. Sensei-jii-chan is very good at stopping the fighting. But he isn't a rabbit, he's a shinobi of Konoha.” 

Hiruzen chuckled and nodded. “My mistake, Heiwa-chan. Come by anytime. You too, Nawanuke-kun.” 

“Don't wanna! Sensei's house is boring!” Nawanuke declared. 

“Nawanuke!” Tsunade scolded. Nawanuke kicked at the air. “Sorry, sensei.” 

“Nawanuke-kun is as lively as ever,” Hiruzen laughed. “He reminds me of Jiraiya at that age.” 

“I sure hope he doesn't turn out like Jiraiya,” she said wryly. “I'd better get these two home for dinner. See you, sensei.” 

She tossed Nawanuke into the air again to stop him from complaining as they headed home. “Don't be rude to sensei!” 

“It's true!” 

Still swinging him around, she looked down to Heiwa, who was walking quietly at her side. “You want a turn, Heiwa?” 

Heiwa shook her head rapidly. Tsunade laughed and ruffled her hair. “That's right, Advisor-san has to be dignified. So, what did the council do today?” 

“We talked about the academy,” Heiwa said. “The academy needs to be fixed.” 

“Oh yeah? What's wrong with it? 

Heiwa was quiet for a minute. “No swimming pool.” 

Tsunade laughed. “So, you want a swimming pool?” 

“No, the academy needs one.” 

“My mistake. So why does the academy need a swimming pool?” 

“For water jutsu,” Heiwa said firmly. “That's why Uchiha-san was mad. He only wants them to teach fire jutsu.” 

Tsunade snorted. “What a typical Uchiha. You set him straight?” 

Heiwa nodded. “Yes. So now the academy is going to have a swimming pool.” 

“I wanna go swimming!” Nawanuke shouted. 

“Maybe if you're good at school and aren’t mean to the teacher I'll take you swimming,” Tsunade said, tossing Nawanuke into the air one last time as they reached the Senju compound. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Nawanuke took off towards the house, where Tanaka-san would have dinner waiting at this time of day. Heiwa walked beside Tsunade at a more sedate pace. 

By the time they reached the dining room, Nawanuke was impatiently waiting for them, kept only from devouring the food by Shizune's watch. 

“Welcome home, Ba-chan,” Shizune said. “How was your day?” 

“Long,” Tsunade sighed as she took a seat at the table. “How about you? Any of the new genin looking promising?” 

“A few,” Shizune said, and went on to discuss her day teaching the basics of first aid to a class of fresh-faced genin who hadn’t even done their first C-ranks yet. Tsunade listened with one ear as she watched Nawanuke, who was picking the bones out of his fish and using them to poke Heiwa. Heiwa, in retaliation, stole Nawanuke’s juice when he wasn’t looking. 

He looked fine, right now, as if that afternoon had never happened. But Tsunade couldn’t trust that it wouldn’t happen again until she completely understood what had happened. 

For now, she had enough material to run tests; hopefully one of them would come back conclusive. In the meantime, she would instruct the babysitters to keep a closer eye on him, and hope it wouldn’t happen again. Hopefully, he’d been messing around with the technique, and just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Hopefully. 

***

Tsunade had just come out of surgery--some stupid chuunin who thought it was a good idea to try channeling chakra to his arms to punch through a tree when his chakra control was complete shit and had ended up shattering his arms instead of the tree--when a nurse poked her head into her office. 

“Oh, Senju-sensei, there you are,” she said. “A call came for you while you were in surgery, from your son’s school.” 

Her heart leapt into her throat. Tsunade reached for the phone before the nurse had even shut the door behind her, suddenly clumsy fingers fumbling the keys a few times before she managed to type the correct number. 

She drummed her fingers against the desk as the phone rang. 

“Hello! Sunshine Preschool, Yamada speaking. How can I help you today?” 

“This is Tsunade Senju. I was told you called about Nawanuke,” she said. 

“Oh, Senju-san! That’s right, we called a few hours ago. Nawanuke-kun collapsed during recess and fell off the monkey-bars. He’s resting in the nurse’s office right now. Don’t worry, he’s completely fine, one of our playground monitors caught him before he fell very far, and he woke up after only a few minutes. However, it’s school protocol for parents to disclose any illnesses or conditions their children have,” the secretary said reproachfully. 

Tsunade sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She’d told all the Senju and all the attendants who usually watched Heiwa and Nawanuke, but telling the school had completely slipped her mind. “It’s a recent development,” she said tersely. “Nawanuke’s still with the nurse? I’ll pick him up.” 

“Of course. Will you be picking up Heiwa-chan as well?” 

“Not right now. We’ll pick her up at the usual time,” Tsunade said. Heiwa, unlike Nawanuke, actually liked spending time at school. Besides, Murata always enjoyed picking up Heiwa from school; he hadn’t had anyone to dote on since Kogane was a baby. Nawanuke, as a rule, refused to be doted on; holding his hand and offering him sweets was likely to get you hit in a sensitive location, as Murata had discovered. 

She made her way to Dan’s office; as usual, he was buried in mountains of paperwork, the unfortunate result of taking on all the administrative aspects of running the hospital. The amount of paperwork on Dan’s desk would give the Hokage a run for his money. 

“Oh, Tsunade,” he said, greeting her with the usual warm smile. “I think there’s room in the budget for an expert in medical seals, like you wanted. We should talk to Tsubame to see if he can think of anyone suitable.” 

“Nawanuke collapsed at school. I’m going to pick him up,” she said. 

Dan frowned. “I can go. You’re still in the middle of your shift, aren’t you?” 

“So are you,” she reminded him. “And those budget reports are due to the council at the end of the day, if I remember correctly. Rin and Shizune can keep everyone on track without me for one day.” 

Dan grimaced at his budget reports. “Well, if you need me, just give me a call. I’ll be at my desk for the foreseeable future.” 

Tsunade kissed him goodbye and then left the hospital before some genin chopped their arms off or something. The preschool was located roughly between their house and the hospital, for convenience’s sake. The building was hard to miss, painted a bright yellow with rainbows over the windows. Personally, Tsunade couldn’t blame Nawanuke for hating the place. It was damn ugly. 

Playtime seemed to be in full swing when she arrived; from what she could tell, Heiwa seemed to be holding court over a trio of other four-year-olds, or at least attempting to.

“I’m the Hokage,” she said, impatiently, “and you’re my genin team, so you’re supposed to listen to me!” 

“This is dumb,” a boy complained. “I wanna go play robot samurai.” 

“Robot samurai is a dumb game, and you’re dumb too,” Heiwa said. 

A woman stepped into Tsunade’s field of vision. “Senju-san!” she greeted, with the typical cheer of the workers at Sunshine Preschool. “The nurse’s office is right this way.” 

Tsunade could have figured that out for herself; she could already hear the familiar sounds of Nawanuke pitching a fit. The moment she opened the door, she was greeted with an ear-piercing shriek. 

“Lemme plaaaaaaay!” 

“Nawanuke!” Tsunade yelled. His mouth snapped shut and he turned to look at her, eyes narrowed as if he was intensely trying to determine her intentions. “Quit screaming at the nurse. We’re going home.” 

He was up and at her side in a flash, glaring fiercely at the nurse all the while. “Sorry about him,” Tsunade said. 

The nurse winced and rubbed her temples, but gamely attempted the Sunshine Preschool smile. “No worries! We’re all familiar with Nawanuke-kun.” 

“I bet,” Tsunade snorted. She ruffled Nawanuke’s hair. “Come on, squirt. You can torment your oppressors tomorrow.” 

As she headed to the door, a small body latched onto her. Tsunade looked down to her side to find Heiwa practically glued to her side. “I’m going home,” Heiwa announced. “I have an important meeting with my councilors.” 

Tsunade glanced around the room. The three children Heiwa was playing with had scattered to the winds; the boy was playing with some kind of robot and making loud, explosive noises, one girl had apparently gone outside, and the second girl was braiding someone’s hair. 

“Sure thing. We’ll have an early day,” Tsunade said. “Who’s ready for a snack?”

“SNACK!” 

Nawanuke raced ahead; he didn’t seem to be showing any ill effects, but Tsunade would take a look at him once they got home. 

“Long day?” she asked Heiwa, offering her hand in case Heiwa wanted to hold it. 

Heiwa nodded and accepted the hand. “My genin team is bad at being a genin team.” 

“Aren’t they always,” Tsunade laughed. “Remind me to tell you about my genin team more. It’s amazing Orochimaru and I didn’t kill Jiraiya ten times over.” 

“Why didn’t you?” Heiwa asked. 

“We fought like cats and dogs, but when it came down to it, there wasn’t anything we wouldn’t do for each other,” Tsunade said. “The best genin teams are the ones that work together. Those are the ones that’ll make it through whatever comes their way.” 

Heiwa nodded solemnly. At the gate to the Senju compound, ahead of them, Nawanuke turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Mom! Heiwa! Move faster!” 

“Oh, no!” Tsunade cried as she deliberately slowed her movements. “It’s like I’m moving through molasses. I must have been hit with a slow-down jutsu!” 

“There’s no such thing as a slow-down jutsu,” Heiwa said. 

“Oh, so you know every jutsu ever made now, huh? I bet Orochimaru could whip up a slow-down jutsu for you,” Tsunade said. 

“That’s not how making jutsu work. Kakashi-nii said so,” Heiwa said. 

“He did, did he?” 

“He’s my jutsu specialist.” 

“Moooooom! Hurry up!” Nawanuke yelled. 

“We’re coming, we’re coming,” Tsunade called. “Hold your kunai.” 

Nawanuke gave up on waiting for them and ran off into the compound. “I’m gonna eat all your snacks!” 

Heiwa tugged on Tsunade’s sleeve. “Nawanuke won’t eat all the snacks. Tanaka-san won’t let him,” Tsunade assured her. 

“He will too. Nawanuke doesn’t listen to anyone,” Heiwa said. 

“Ha! You’ve got that right. We’d better hurry it up, or we might find Tanaka-san fallen to the wrath of Nawanuke. Go save your subjects, Hokage-sama!” 

Heiwa nodded grimly and ran after Nawanuke. Laughing, Tsunade followed her into the house. 

“Mother. You’re laughing. Is something amusing?” 

In the middle of taking off her shoes, Tsunade looked over to find Kogane sitting in the middle of the living room, his kunai spread out in front of them. Twenty of them were in two neat lines, ten kunai in each line. The other twenty were scattered around him, and he was in the process of lining them back up. 

“Welcome home. Did Hurricane Nawanuke get you?” she asked, coming over to stand beside him. 

Kogane didn’t look up. “Nawanuke is in the kitchen speaking with Tanaka-san. Heiwa came and told me she was the Hokage. I informed her that she was incorrect, as Sakumo Hatake is the current Hokage, and she is only three years old and not even a shinobi yet. Then she kicked my kunai. I am unsure why.” 

He lined the last of them up and, satisfied with their state, picked up the kunai at the top right-hand corner and inspected it carefully. 

“I think Heiwa had a rough day at school. She was playing Hokage with some kids,” Tsunade said. 

Kogane nodded, set down his kunai, and picked up the one next to it. “I see. An emotional disturbance caused her to behave irrationally. You didn’t answer my question. Did something amusing happen?” 

“Just Heiwa and Nawanuke,” she said. 

Kogane nodded thoughtfully and continued to inspect his kunai. 

“Any idea how long you’re back?” she asked. 

“For two weeks,” Kogane said. “I have been granted leave. I was intending to put in some shifts at the hospital.” 

“Change of plans. I want you to keep an eye on Nawanuke while your dad and I are at work.” 

Kogane paused for a moment. “Whose eyes? Should I get some from the hospital? I don’t know if I’m authorized to requisition body parts.” 

“No, I mean watch him. He’s been accidentally doing the Spirit Release. See if you can teach him to control it,” Tsunade said. 

Kogane nodded seriously, as if this was a mission passed down from the Hokage himself and not a request from his mother. Tsunade reached down to ruffle his hair, and Kogane longsufferingly withstood her affections, as he always did. Kogane was a good kid; he’d take care of Nawanuke. And he’d do a better job than she had done with Nawaki. 

***

For all of a week, things seemed to be going well. Kogane watched Nawanuke and taught him while Tsunade and Dan were at work. They celebrated Heiwa’s fourth birthday, first with a small, private party and then with a massive celebration that half the village turned up to. Even Orochimaru dragged himself out of his lair for the day; he’d been unusually busy recently, although he wouldn’t tell her what he was working on. ANBU business, she assumed. 

Even the Hyuuga showed up, Hiashi and his oldest daughter and Hizashi and his son. They arrived together, but neither of them so much at looked at the other. Hinata joined the other children, playing under the watchful eyes of the older kids--Kakashi and Obito might have gotten themselves hitched, but they were still kids as far as Tsunade was concerned. 

Hizashi’s son stayed glued to his father’s side throughout the party; not surprising, considering what had almost happened had Sakumo not stepped in. The clan heads were still giving him shit for “interfering in clan business.” To watch him at the party, you’d think he was the village pariah, not the Hokage. The only clan heads who even went near him were Shikaku Nara, who was his advisor, and Tsume Inuzuka, who was an Inuzuka. 

“You should piss people off more often,” Tsunade told him, as they sipped their drinks and stood near the decimated cake, idly watching the kids play. “This is the longest we’ve been able to talk without being interrupted in months.” 

Sakumo chuckled. “Unfortunately, I think I’ve already filled my quota of annoying the clan heads for the year. They didn’t take kindly to me bumping up the Academy enrollment age to eight.” 

Tsunade elbowed him. “Yeah, and we all know why you really did it, you big sap.” 

Jiraiya emerged from the crowd to drape his arms over their shoulders. “Oh-hoh, are we talking about Sakumo’s massive crush?” 

Tsunade shoved him off. “Pipe down. I don’t think they heard you in Kumo.” 

“I keep telling you, Sakumo, you should make a move!” Jiraiya said. “Send him a romantic letter. Chicks dig romantic letters.” 

“Narumi is hardly a chick, Jiraiya,” Tsunade said. 

“We write all the time,” Sakumo said. 

“Yeah, with  _ child-rearing  _ advice. Hardly great works of romance. My latest book just got published, if you need tips.” 

“Jiraiya, for the last time, we are not reading your smut novels,” Tsunade said. “Take your publicity stunt elsewhere.” 

Sakumo gave Jiraiya a wry look. “Seeing as I’ve actually been married and you get chased off whenever you get within a meter of a public bath, I think I’ll pass on your advice.” 

Jiraiya clapped his hand over his heart and staggered back. “Straight through the heart! Orochimaru, are you hearing this? Avenge me!” 

Orochimaru cast him a disdainful look. “It’s nothing less than you deserve for inflicting that garbage on the public.” 

Jiraiya staggered back a second time. “A second blow. Oh, most cruel comrades! Has it truly come to this?” He fell to one knee. 

A hand tugged at Tsunade’s pants. She looked down to find Heiwa standing there, watching Jiraiya. “Mom, what’s ji-chan doing?” 

“Being ridiculous as always,” Tsunade said. 

Sakumo smiled down at Heiwa. “Well, if it isn’t my future successor. Are you enjoying your party?” 

Heiwa nodded. “We’re playing Hokage.” 

“Oh? Well, you can’t have a hokage without the hat.” Sakumo reached up, removed his hat, and set it on Heiwa’s head. “There you go, Hokage-sama.” 

Heiwa’s eyes went wide as saucers. She put one hand on the hat, as if to make sure it was really there, and then whirled around and raced off to join the other children again. “Nii-chan! Nii-chan, look!” 

Tsunade gave Sakumo an exasperated look. “I hope you know you’re never getting that hat back.” 

Sakumo waved a hand. “Oh, my present for her is a hat of her own to dress up with. She won’t miss mine at all. I’ll just take it back once she falls asleep.” 

“You’re welcome to try,” Tsunade said. 

Sakumo looked over at Orochimaru. “I haven’t seen you around in a while, Orochimaru. What have you been up to?” 

“I have been assisting Kakashi with a project,” Orochimaru said. 

“Oh, yeah, that jutsu he made for Obito’s birthday, right?” Sakumo said. “Obito showed it to me. You’d think it was his first jutsu, he was so giddy. How come you never make me jutsu for my birthday?” 

“Increase my funding.” 

“Ha! Try telling that to the elders.” 

Tsunade glanced around the garden; it had been long enough that the people who had shown up just to show up had all left, leaving only the people she considered friends. And Tsume Inuzuka, who was sealing a tower of refreshments into a scroll. Tsunade pretended not to notice. 

As soon as she had finished helping herself to the refreshments, Tsume snagged her kid and dragged him off, and then it was just Tsunade, Dan, Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and Sakumo. Kakashi, Obito, Shizune, Rin, and Kogane were all clustered next to a tree, sipping sodas and beers. Orochimaru’s other two students, a girl eating dango and a boy in glasses, had also joined them for a lack of anything else to do at the party. The younger kids had all left, so Heiwa was attempting to play Hokage with Nawanuke. 

Sakumo sighed and glanced off to the side, where Tsunade could see an ANBU lingering in a tree. “I should head back,” he said. “Before Danzo tries to crash the party. I swear, one of these days I’m going to toss that man off the top of the Hokage Monument. It won’t kill him, but it’ll make me feel better.” 

She heard Obito snort. “Kogane teaching someone? Now this I have to see.” 

“I’m sure Kogane is a wonderful teacher!” Rin said. 

“Look me in the eyes and say that again.” 

Jiraiya slung an arm around Sakumo’s shoulder. “Ah, come on, Sakumo! Live a little!” 

“You should be heading off too, you know,” Sakumo said. “No side trips to the hot springs this time.” 

“Hey! They’re a great source of information!” 

“Yeah, a great source of information for your dirty books, not the information I pay you to get.” 

“Oh, like you don’t buy them too. Narumi does! And sensei!” 

“Sensei does  _ what _ ?” Tsunade asked. 

Jiraiya continued on blithely, ignoring the warning signs from Sakumo. “Oh, yeah, he’s a big fan. Buys them on the first day they come out! He keeps bugging me for sneak previews, too.” 

Tsunade cracked her knuckles. “He’d better not be keeping that trash where the kids can find it.” 

At some point, Orochimaru had wandered off, leaving his two younger students behind. Kogane and his friends seemed to be trying to get Nawanuke to do . . . something. It probably wasn’t anything dangerous, so Tsunade left them to it after a minute of watching. 

“I bet you don’t want these, then,” Jiraiya was saying to Sakumo, as he held a small envelope in the air. 

Sakumo’s eyes zeroed in on them. “What’s that?” 

“Oh-hoh, now you’re interested. Exclusive pictures of our favorite blond bombshell. And the brat,” Jiraiya said. “Tsubame-chan gave them to me.” 

“ _ Bombshell _ ?” Tsunade raised an eyebrow. “You mean Narumi?” 

Jiraiya waved a hand. “Trust me, it’s an accurate description. So, Sakumo, you want the goods or not? All you’ve gotta do is look the other way . . .” 

Sakumo looked longingly at the photos. “I shouldn’t. The kunoichi would kill me if they knew I let you loose.” 

Jiraiya smirked. “Did I mention that I added a couple bonus pictures of a certain . . . secret technique?” 

“A secret technique?” 

Jiraiya let out a dirty chuckle, the kind he usually made when he was peeping on the women’s bath. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.” 

A loud thud and a burst of laughter from behind them drew Tsunade’s attention back to the kids. Nawanuke was sitting on the ground in front of a tree, his back to her, as Obito elbowed Kogane. 

“What was lesson number one, Kogane, how to fall on your ass?” Obito teased. 

“He’s still better than you were when you started,” Kakashi said. “You’d think sensei’s first lesson was how to land on your head.” 

All of them, even Rin, laughed at that. “I remember. We had to stop training and take Obito to the hospital because he had a concussion.” 

“Hey! Not all of us can be geniuses who walk up trees at the age of four!” 

“Obviously,” Kakashi said dryly. 

Heiwa giggled. 

Nawanuke leapt to his feet and spun around to face them, his face red with anger and embarrassment. “Stop it! Stop laughing at me!” 

Obito held up his hands. “Whoa there, sorry buddy. We weren’t laughing at you, we were--” 

“Liar!” Nawanuke snatched the Hokage hat from Heiwa’s head before she could stop him and threw it down in the dirt. 

“Nawanuke!” Kogane exclaimed. 

Nawanuke glared at Kogane, and thus didn’t see Heiwa reach forward to shove him. Nawanuke fell forward, landing on his hands and knees. Kogane knelt in front of him and offered him a hand, only for Nawanuke to smack it away and get up on his own. He shoved Heiwa, and she landed on the ground and glared up at him. 

“You’re stupid!” Heiwa declared. “You’re stupid and I hate you forever!” 

“No, you’re stupid! And you’re never gonna be the Hokage because you’re too stupid!” Nawanuke yelled. 

“Okay, that’s enough! Both of you, go to your rooms,” Tsunade yelled, but Nawanuke just glared at her and raced off. Heiwa ran off towards the house, scrubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 

Sakumo picked up the hat from the ground, set it on his head, and stared down the sheepish crowd of teenagers. “I hope you’re all ready to clean this compound from top to bottom.” 

The kids quickly dispersed and set to cleaning. Jiraiya, having sensed the imminent family trouble, had already disappeared. 

Tsunade sighed and looked at Dan. 

“I take Nawa, you take Heiwa?” he suggested. 

“Sure. Have fun finding him,” she said, as she leaned in to give him a quick kiss before heading to the house. 

She gave Heiwa fifteen minutes to collect herself before knocking on her door. “Heiwa? Can I come in?” 

“Come in.” 

Tsunade opened the door slowly. Heiwa was sitting on the ground, surrounded by her council members, as she flipped through a book. Narumi had sent it along for Heiwa’s birthday; each page of the book talked about a different animal found near Uzushio. Nawanuke had received a set of water balloons that he had spent about a week dropping onto people’s heads from the roof until he had finally run out.

Tsunade knelt down next to her and gently brushed a hand through her hair. “How’re you feeling, kiddo?” 

Heiwa sniffled. “Okay.” She flipped through the book, too fast to be actually reading it. “I am so going to be Hokage.” 

“I know you are,” Tsunade said. 

“Why’s Nawanuke so mean?” 

“He thought you were laughing at him, and he doesn’t like being laughed at. You don’t like it either, do you?” 

Heiwa shook her head. 

“See? He didn’t really mean it. Just like I don’t think you really meant what you said either.” Tsunade said. “I used to fight with my brother about all kinds of stupid things, like who ate the other’s leftovers, or who borrowed the other’s kunai. We always got over it. Now, that’s enough of the serious talk. How about you show me this book of yours.” 

Heiwa nodded enthusiastically. “There’s lots of animals I don’t know,” she said. “Like dolphins! They’re really smart.” 

Tsunade watched Heiwa fondly as she read through the book, describing everything she’d learned about animals she’d never seen. Maybe they’d take a trip to Uzushio someday; she knew Narumi would like to see Heiwa and Nawanuke. The mere thought of Nawanuke falling into the ocean was enough to give her a heart attack, though, so maybe they would wait until they figured out what was going on with him. 

Heiwa started nodding off before too long, tired from the day’s events. Tsunade tucked her in and then headed downstairs, where she found Dan lying on the couch, an ice pack pressed to his crotch. 

“What happened to you?” she asked. 

“Nawanuke happened,” Dan said. “I hope you didn’t want any more kids.” 

Tsunade snorted. “Geez, that kid. What are we going to do with him?” 

“Send him off to the Academy as soon as possible. He’ll have them all under his reign of terror in a day,” Dan joked. 

Tsunade sighed and patted his ankle until he shifted his legs enough that she could sit next to him. “I really hope that either Kogane’s lessons work or some of these tests I’m waiting on pan out. Otherwise I really don’t know what we’re going to do.” 

“Don’t worry,” Dan said. “Nawanuke’s a resilient kid. Everything will work out.” 

***

Kogane took a break from training Nawanuke the day after Heiwa’s birthday, but given the short amount of leave he had been given, went back to training the next day--or, at least, he planned to. 

Tsunade was woken unfortunately early on her day off by a loud, shrill scream. She jumped out of bed and leapt through the window to save time, ready to fend off any attackers. Instead, she found Nawanuke lying on the ground, screaming his head off and kicking at the ground, and Kogane standing above him with his fingers in his ears. 

Tsunade rubbed her temples. “What’s going on here?” 

Nawanuke continued to scream. 

“He refuses to train,” Kogane said. “I told him that if he did not train, that he would be a terrible ninja. Then he kicked me and said I was a ‘poopy-head.’ I informed him that that is impossible. Then he started screaming. And then you jumped out the window.” He stared at Nawanuke, a frustrated crease between his brows. “I don’t know what to do. I tried all the techniques that my jounin sensei taught me, and none of them worked.” 

Tsunade sighed. “Go spend some time with Rin, or something. I’ll take care of this.” 

With a brief nod, Kogane made his escape. Tsunade crouched next to Nawanuke, whose screaming had quieted slightly. 

She looked up at the sky. Kogane hadn’t been able to help. She didn’t know what to do--she’d never struggled with chakra control. An Uzumaki could help, maybe, but there weren’t many in the village, and she wasn’t sure how they would deal with Nawanuke. 

There was one person, however, who she knew was used to dealing with difficult cases. 

“Nawanuke,” she said. “How about we take a trip?” 

Slowly, his screaming petered out. “A trip?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Yeah,” Tsunade said. “You, me, and Heiwa. We’ll go see the ocean. That sounds fun, right?” 

“I don’t have to train with stupid Kogane?” Nawanuke asked. 

“You don’t have to train with Kogane,” Tsunade said. “And you shouldn’t call your brother stupid.” 

“He’s stupid,” Nawanuke said. “And mean. He said I was gonna be a bad ninja.” 

“Do you want to be a ninja?” Tsunade asked. 

“Yeah,” Nawanuke said, like it was obvious. 

Tsunade smiled. “Well, I’m going to introduce you to someone who I think can help you be a great ninja. So, what do you say, Nawanuke? Want to take a trip?” 

Nawanuke sat up. “Can we get ice cream on the way?” 

“If you play nicely with Heiwa while I get ready for the trip,” Tsunade said. 

“But Mooooom,” Nawanuke whined. “Heiwa only likes to play dumb Hokage games and boss people around.” 

Tsunade ruffled his hair. “You’re the big brother, so look after her for me and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” 

Nawanuke puffed up at the thought of being given an important job. He nodded once and raced off without another word. As she walked by the house on her way to the gate, she heard him yell, “Heiwa! Mom says I’m the boss and you gotta do what I say!” 

Laughing to herself, Tsunade continued on her way. Her first top: the Hokage’s office. 

Sakumo was understanding, of course, when she requested leave. Shizune was skilled enough to handle pretty much anything, and with Rin and Dan assisting, they would have the hospital well in hand without her. Once her leave had been officially granted, she made her way to the hospital to explain things to Shizune and Rin. The two of them quickly accepted the situation, and were already discussing the best way to brief the rest of the staff when she left for Dan’s office. 

“I’m taking Nawanuke and Heiwa to Uzushio,” she said. 

Dan sighed. “Leaving me for Tsubame at last, hm? I knew this day would come.” 

She swatted the back of his head. “Gross. He’s my cousin.” 

“Once removed!” Dan said cheerfully. He spun his chair around to face her, his expression serious. “This is about Nawanuke using the Spirit Release, isn’t it?” 

“I think Tsubame will be able to help him with his chakra control,” Tsunade said. 

Dan nodded. “It’s a good idea. If anyone has experience in dealing with chakra control issues, it would be an Uzumaki. Any idea how long you’ll be there?” 

Tsunade shrugged. “Weeks? Months? I honestly have no idea. It depends on how well he’s able to teach Nawanuke, I suppose.” 

Dan smiled up at her. “Then, I suppose I should take an early day.” 

Tsunade returned his smile. “I think Tanaka-san can help the kids pack. So, what are we waiting for?” 

Dan stood up, standing so close to her that their noses almost touched. “Absolutely nothing,” he murmured, and then closed the remaining distance between them. 

***

The trip to Uzushio was almost ridiculously long with two kids in tow. She had to take a wagon and go along the roads instead of just going directly through the forest, which took a good two weeks, and then they had to wait for a boat capable of navigating around the whirlpools surrounding the village and make the trip out, which ended up taking nearly a full week. By the end of it, even Heiwa was tired of looking out at sea. 

“Okay, you monsters,” Tsunade said, the moment they’d been deposited on the docks of Uzushio. “We’ve finally arrived.” 

“Tsunade. It’s good to see you.” 

Tsubame stood at the entrance to the docks, his hair up in a ponytail. He looked almost unchanged from the last time she’d seen him; he could have passed for a man in his early thirties. 

“Damn, Tsubame. Looking good,” she said. “Let me guess. You don’t even have a skincare routine.” 

The corner of his lips quirked up slightly. “I don’t have the time for one. Nor the need. And this must be Heiwa and Nawanuke.” 

“Yep, these are my brats,” Tsunade said. “Cute, aren’t they? Nawanuke, don’t eat that. It’ll taste disgusting.” 

Nawanuke stopped trying to unscrew the jar of bait. Heiwa, next to him, was peering down into the water. 

“Nawa, look,” she said, pointing into the water with the hand that wasn’t clutching her stuffed rabbit. “A sea star.” 

“Sea stars’re dumb,” Nawanuke said. 

“You’re dumber,” Heiwa said. Nawanuke threw the jar of bait at her and missed. It sank into the water with a loud splash. 

“I think you’d better show us where we’re staying before they destroy the docks single-handedly,” Tsunade said. 

Tsubame nodded and turned. “Of course. I’ve set up the guest house in the Uzumaki compound for you. I thought you might appreciate having a little privacy. Some of the Uzumaki children can be quite rowdy.” 

“Nawanuke will fit right in,” Tsunade laughed. “Kids, ready to see where we’ll be staying?” 

“No!” Nawanuke retorted, even as he went to her side with Heiwa. 

Nawanuke scampered around as Tsubame led the way to the house, while Heiwa remained at Tsunade’s side, holding onto her hand. “How’ve things been for you?” 

“Busy,” Tsubame said. “Not to worry, though. I will be able to make time to train Nawanuke. Not every day, most likely, but at least every other day.” 

“That’ll probably be more than enough.” Tsunade snorted. “He just about screamed Kogane’d head off the other day because he didn’t want to train with him.” 

“Excellent,” Tsubame said. “It’s always better to have a student who lets you know when he has reached his limits.” 

“Oh, you’ve got nothing to worry about there. But you didn’t really answer me. How’ve things been?” 

He sighed. “The same as always. What do you really want to hear?” 

She slugged him on the arm, and he winced and scowled at her. “Don’t be like that. C’mon, vent your frustrations to me. Or do I need to get you full of cheap vodka like when we were kids?” 

“Please don’t,” he sighed. “My wife would never let me hear the end of it.” 

“Ahah! Just like that,” Tsunade said, jabbing a finger at him. “C’mon, you know you want to complain.” 

“It’s not too late for me to throw you back on that boat,” he said. 

“I’d like to see you try,” Tsunade scoffed. “Fine, fine, if you won’t talk to me about that, you can at least tell me how your research is going.” 

“Ah. I’ve been looking at Naruto’s seal recently,” Tsubame said, dropping his voice to a murmur. “It really is quite ingenious--an Uzumaki would be hard pressed to come up with something like that. Really, I’d like to get my hands on one of Namikaze’s Hiraishin kunai to take a look at the seals there, but they are understandably difficult to get a hold of. Not even Narumi has one.” 

“Jiraiya might,” Tsunade said. “Sakumo’s kid does for sure, and maybe the other kids on his team. I don’t have one, or I’d give it to you. There might be something on the Hiraishin lying around in one of the old journals back home, but I think Heiwa might try to kill me if I took away any of her reading material. She’s been going through Tobirama’s old journals.” 

“She resembles Tobirama,” Tsubame said. “Except for her eyes.” 

“Yep, those eyes are Dan’s, through and through,” Tsunade chuckled. “I’m happy one of the kids got his eyes, at least. Nawanuke and Kogane both take after me.” 

As she spoke, Nawanuke kicked a rock, sending it ricocheting off the opposite side of the canal and splashing into the water. 

“I can see that,” Tsubame said, dryly. 

“If you thought I was a headache when we were kids, wait until you get a load of Nawanuke,” Tsunade laughed. “He’ll give even you a run for your money.” 

“He can’t possibly be as bad as Hyousuke.” 

“Hyousuke was afraid you were going to kill him for the first year he was here. Trust me, Nawanuke will be worse. How are those kids, anyways?” 

“Ah, well, Hyousuke returned to Kirigakure. I haven’t heard from him since then. Knowing the state of things in Kiri, he may very well be dead,” Tsubame sighed. “Katsuro--the youngest--is busy training his second genin team. And Kasumi is married now, with two children of her own. She retired from ANBU a few years ago and took up a position in the fuinjutsu research department instead.” 

“They didn’t want to go back?” 

“Their family was killed in the civil war while they were still children,” he murmured. “There’s nothing left for them there. They don’t even remember living in Mizu.” 

A slight resistance at the end of her hand made Tsunade pause. Heiwa had stopped moving, and was nearly asleep on her feet. Tsunade picked her up, taking a moment to get her situated, and looked back to where Nawanuke was hanging halfway over the edge of the canal. “Nawanuke! Come on, or I’ll carry you too.” 

“No!” Nawanuke protested, immediately scrambling to join her. 

“I’ll take you to the house,” Tsubame said. “You can rest before dinner. You’ll be joining us at the main house for dinner, of course.” 

“You just can’t beat the fish from Uzushio,” Tsunade sighed. “You’d better have the good stuff. And I don’t just mean the food.” 

“I have my best bottle of sake ready and waiting,” Tsubame promised. 

“That’s more like it! Let me get the kids tucked into bed, and we can break it open while you tell me all about your research.” 

“How did I know you were going to say that?” 

Heiwa was already fast asleep by the time they reached the house. Nawanuke was visibly flagging, but refused to go to bed. She left him playing some weird game that seemed to mostly involve ripping paper into shreds, while she and Tsubame sat at the kitchen table, pouring cups of sake as they exchanged hospital gossip. 

Both of them were practiced at holding their alcohol, however, so they weren’t more than a little tipsy by the time Heiwa woke up and asked when dinner was. 

“Ah, Suikawari probably has it waiting for us,” Tsubame said. 

“You hungry, Nawanuke?” Tsunade called. 

“No!” Nawanuke insisted, even as he ran out the door ahead of her. “Where’s dinner?” 

“Straight ahead,” Tsubame said. “The largest house.” 

“Hopefully we’ll find dinner still in one piece,” Tsunade said under her breath. 

Thankfully, Suikawari had apparently managed to wrangle Nawanuke, as he was sitting at the table when they entered the dining room. As she sat next to him, with Heiwa on her other side, she saw why--he’d been bribed with a cookie. 

Tsubame took his place at the head, leaving two settings on the opposite side of the table from Tsunade. Tsubame’s wife, Shiomi, was already sitting at the end of the table. The years hadn’t treated her nearly as well as they had Tsubame. Not surprising, considering that she was seven years older than him, and he had the Uzumaki genes working in his favor. She looked every inch of her nearly fifty years. She also didn’t look the least bit happy to see Tsunade. 

“We may as well begin,” Tsubame said to Suikawari. 

Suikawari nodded and began to serve the food, starting with Tsubame and Shiomi and then going on to cheerfully ask Nawanuke how much how wanted to eat. Nawanuke, evidently still under the influence of the cookie, actually responded with “please,” although he was too busy devouring the food to remember the “thank you.” 

The door opened again as Tsunade was being served, admitting a man with brown hair pulled into a low ponytail and a cheerful smile. A genin with sleek, black hair that covered their eyes entirely tagged along at his heels, following him so closely Tsunade was amazed they didn’t run into each other. The man looked to be a little younger than Tsubame, which put him somewhere in his twenties by Tsunade’s estimate. 

The kid sat down across from Tsunade, but the man continued on to kiss Tsubame’s cheek before sitting down. “Sorry, Father. Training ran a bit late. Hungry, Su?”

The genin nodded. Suikawari, who had since moved on to Heiwa, gave him a smile. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Su-san.” 

“Serve Su before me,” said the young man, who had to be Katsuro. He gave Tsunade a smile. “It’s been a long time, Tsunade-san.” 

“Good to see you, kid. I see you’ve picked up a shadow,” she said, nodding towards Su. “One of your genin?” 

“That’s right,” Katsuro said, with a soft chuckle. “My last team passed the last chuunin exams, and suddenly I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I couldn’t resist taking on another team. They’re a great bunch of kids. Right, Su?” 

Su nodded, and Katsuro chuckled and ruffled their hair. “Don’t mind them. Su’s the strong and silent type.” 

“Trust me, I could do with some silence given what I have to deal with,” Tsunade laughed. 

Nawanuke pointed at Su. “Hey, why’s your hair in my face? My mom doesn’t let me have my hair in my face, she makes me cut it even though I don’t wanna! Mom, I wanna let my hair be long!” 

“Become a ninja first, then you can wear your hair however you want,” Tsunade said. “Now eat your dinner before it gets cold.” 

“Su-san,” Heiwa said. “Su-san, how is it spelled?” 

Su paused for a moment, before taking out a scrap of sealing paper and an inkbrush and writing down a single character. 

“Oh,” Heiwa said, nodding as if she had known all along. “Sandbar. I thought maybe it might’ve been spelled like vinegar.” 

“That’s a pretty impressive knowledge of kanji you have there,” Katsuro said, smiling at her. “How old are you?” 

Heiwa held up three fingers, paused, and held up a fourth as well. “Four,” she said. “Since . . . yesterday.” 

“Her birthday was about a week ago,” Tsunade said. 

“I know lots of kanji,” Heiwa said. “More than anyone in preschool.” 

“Mom, Mom, I’m done,” Nawanuke said, tugging on her sleeve. “When’s dessert?” 

“You’re not done, you didn’t eat your vegetables,” Tsunade said. 

Heiwa tugged on her sleeve as well. “Mom, I ate my vegetables.” 

“But not your fish,” Tsunade said. 

“It has too many bones still,” Heiwa whispered. 

Tsunade nodded solemnly and reached over to help. “Well, let me see what I can do. Nawanuke, don’t you dare drop that on the ground.” 

“Wasn’t gonna!” Nawanuke said, as he put a slice of carrot back on his plate.

“No dessert unless you finish all your vegetables,” she said, getting a groan in response. 

The door burst open with a cheerful call of, “Hi, Sensei! We’re here for dinner!” 

“Ah, Hien, Nikko. What brings you here?” Katsuro asked. 

Tsunade, still in the middle of dissecting Heiwa’s fish, looked up to observe the newcomers. The first of them, the one who had spoken, was a young girl with hair that was mostly bright blue. Her bangs were cut at an upwards slant, and she had pulled it into a side ponytail, the end of which was purple. Just behind her stood a boy who had to be at least related to the Uzumaki, with light orange hair and blue eyes. 

“My brother went on a mission without telling me so there’s no dinner at home,” she huffed. “And I ran into Nikko on the way and brought him along so he wouldn’t be left out!” 

“Well, have a seat,” Katsuro said. “Suikawari, I don’t suppose . . . ?” 

As the two kids squeezed in on either side of Su, Suikawari vanished into another room, probably to get more dishes. Hien, grinning, tugged on one of the short braids hanging by Su’s ear. “So this is where you went! Not fair, eating nice food without us!” 

Su’s hands formed a series of signs. Hien gasped in mock outrage. “What? I do so appreciate good food!” 

“You should introduce yourselves before you get carried away,” Katsuro said. 

“Oh, right!” Hien turned and bowed to Tsunade. “I’m Hien Mizushima! Nice to meet you.” 

“And I’m Nikko Uzumaki. Nice to meet you!” 

“Tsunade Senju. And these are my kids, Heiwa and Nawanuke.” 

Hien’s mouth fell open. “Wait,  _ the  _ Tsunade? Whoa! Can you, like, punch a mountain for me or something? I’ve always wanted to see you punch a mountain!” She jumped up and let loose a flurry of punches into the air. “Haaaa-ya! Ha-ya!” 

“Hien, please sit down.” 

Heiwa’s chopsticks clattered against the side of her plate. Tsunade looked over to find her stubbornly frowning at her chopsticks, as if attempting to glare them into submission, even as sleep dragged her eyelids down. 

“Someone’s still tired,” Tsunade chuckled. “Ready for bed, Heiwa?” 

After a few moments, Heiwa nodded. “I’m not tired!” Nawanuke protested. 

“Yeah!” Hien cheered. 

“I want dessert!” Nawanuke declared. 

“Yeah!” Hien cheered. 

“You can stay up until dessert,” Tsunade said. “I’m taking Heiwa to bed. Thanks for dinner, Tsubame.” 

“Of course,” Tsubame said, with a polite nod and a polite smile. If it weren’t for all the people, she’d poke him in his ticklish spots to make him loosen up. Tsubame was never relaxed when there were too many people around. Especially when one of them was his wife. 

Well, they had plenty of time. She’d get Tsubame to relax while she was there. And, hopefully, Tsubame would figure out a way to help Nawanuke.

***

In the end, Tsubame was able to devote two hours every other day to training Nawanuke. It was probably a good thing--Nawanuke barely tolerated the two hours as it was. He spent the rest of the time running wild with the Uzumaki kids. Tsunade had worried about him falling into the water, but pretty much every kid there could walk on water, and swim like a fish besides. He’d had a few incidents where he passed out, but so far he hadn’t gotten anything more serious than a few bumps and bruises, and someone had run to get her every time. Just to be safe, she’d ended up hiring Katsuro’s genin team to keep an eye on him. By all accounts they loved the assignment, since they were basically getting paid to play around. Heiwa, on the other hand, had found Tsubame’s study and hardly moved from it since. Last Tsunade had seen her, she had been sitting with a dictionary, reading a treatise on water jutsu that seemed to have been cowritten by Tsubame and Orochimaru. 

Tsunade herself had immediately been dragged to the hospital by a group of medics who had been overjoyed to have her visiting them. Already, she’d been asked to oversee a few particularly difficult surgeries and host a training session for the medics. When she did manage to get away, she met up with Tsubame or Narumi for lunch, or got Heiwa out of the study and walked around the village for her. On occasion, she watched Tsubame’s training sessions with Nawanuke, which had been taking place in the bathtub. So far, they hadn’t been going well. 

“It’s interesting,” Tsubame told her, several weeks into their visit, as they ate their lunches of takoyaki and watched the kids playing on the main canal. “Not even Uzumaki children have this much trouble. I’ve tried every trick I know.” 

“Naruto had an easier time of it,” Narumi commented around a mouthful of commentary. “And he’s got, uh, circumstances. It took him a while, but now look at him.” 

It was easy to spot the head of spiky blond hair running over the water, scooping up handfuls of water and splashing people. 

“He looks just like you,” Tsunade said. 

“And he’s just as much trouble,” Tsubame said, with a sidelong glance at Narumi. 

Narumi laughed sheepishly. “What? I bought you new sealing materials, didn’t I?” 

“Ji-chan! Jiji!” Naruto shrieked. “Watch this!” 

He had left the surface of the water to stand on one of the arched bridges crossing the canal, and as they watched took a running leap into the water. He plunged beneath the surface, but burst out again after only a few moments, triumphantly holding a fish aloft. 

Narumi clapped. “Good job, Naruto!” 

“I caught it with chakra!” Naruto declared proudly. “Can we eat it for dinner?” 

“It’s too small for that! Throw it back,” Narumi said. 

Heiwa, who had been lingering away from the edge of the canal, stepped closer. “What kind of fish is it?” 

“Red snapper!” Naruto declared proudly, as he knelt down and released the fish back into the water. 

“Oh. I wanted to see it,” Heiwa said. 

“That’s okay, there’s a lots of them!” 

Tsubame hummed thoughtfully, drawing Tsunade’s attention away from the kids. “I wonder . . . Tsunade, would it be okay if I ran a little test on Nawanuke?” 

“What kind? I ran a bunch at the hospital in Konoha,” she said. 

“The kind with seals,” Tsubame said. “It should only take a few moments--do you know where he went?” 

Tsunade shrugged. “I have Katsuro’s genin watching him today. I think he wanted to go to the beach.” 

“I’ll just find him tomorrow.” 

A sharp, short cry of surprise drew her attention back to the kids just in time to see Naruto and Heiwa topple into the water. Naruto emerged a second later, coughing and making faces but otherwise fine as he pulled himself up to stand on the surface. 

“Shit!” Tsunade lunged forwards, prepared to leap into the water. Heiwa could swim, Tsunade had made sure of that, but she’d never swum in anything other than a swimming pool. Before her feet could leave the sidewalk, however, Heiwa burst through the surface of the water, coughing loudly, but fine. 

Tsunade breathed a sigh of relief. She was fine. 

“Naruto!” Tsunade nearly jumped out of her skin to find Narumi right next to her, hands on his hips. “You know better than to pull people out on the water without making sure they’re okay with it! Apologize to Heiwa.” 

Naruto laughed sheepishly as he offered a hand to Heiwa. “Sorry! I thought you woulda known how to walk on water already.” 

A smack rang through the hair as Heiwa slapped his hand away. Shocked, Naruto stumbled back and fell into the water again. Heiwa brushed her soaked hair out of her face and swarm to the sidewalk, pulling herself up with the help of the kids standing there. They backed away as soon as she was back on land, and no wonder--the scowl on her face almost put Tsunade to shame. 

Naruto burst out of the water. “Hey!” he hollered. “What was that for? I said I was sorry!” 

Glare still fixed on her face, Heiwa stormed across the bridge and came to a stop in front of Tsunade. “Mom, can we go home?” 

Tsunade gently stroked her wet hair away from her ice. “Sure thing, kiddo. Let’s get you dried off.” 

“Sorry about that,” Narumi said. Naruto, on the other side of the canal, seemed to have forgotten about the incident already, and was enthusiastically chatting to a girl with red hair and glasses. 

Tsunade waved him off. “It’s fine, it’s fine. They’re kids. Jiraiya and I did way worse to each other when we were that age. But I’d better get this one back home.” 

Heiwa didn’t say anything for a while, and only piped up when they were walking through the door of the house. “Mom, can I learn water walking with Nawanuke?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Tsunade said. “You can ask Tsubame when you see him next.” 

Heiwa gave her a small, pleased nod that sent her hair falling back into her face. Tsunade suppressed a laugh. “But first, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

***

Unfortunately, Heiwa didn't end up getting her wish. Tsubame holed himself up in the hospital, occasionally bringing Nawanuke in to run tests, and otherwise working very diligently on something he refused to share with her. For weeks, all Tsunade got was the vague "I'm making progress," until at last one of the nurses came by to let her know Tsubame wanted to talk to her. 

“Hey, Tsubame. One of the nurses said you wanted to see me?” Tsunade shut the door to Tsubame's office behind her and surveyed the room, empty but for Nawanuke and Tsubame. 

Tsubame looked up from his notes. Nawanuke, who was sitting on a chair beside Tsubame, didn’t look up at all, too busy tapping his knee with the reflex hammer and laughing as his leg swung back and forth. 

“Ah, of course,” Tsubame said, fishing out a piece of paper. “I finished those tests I mentioned to you, and I wanted to show the results to you. Nawanuke, if you would oblige us. Hold this, but do not channel any chakra into it.” 

“‘Kay,” Nawanuke said, holding one hand out to accept the paper. 

For a moment, nothing happened, but then the seal on the paper began to light up. It dimmed, only to light up even brighter. 

“To reiterate,” Tsubame said, “you aren’t channeling any chakra into the paper.” 

“Nope,” Nawanuke said. 

“Thank you. May I have the paper again?” 

Nawanuke handed over the paper, and Tsubame passed it to her. “Go on. Experiment with channeling chakra into it.” 

When she channeled chakra into it, the seal lit up. When she didn’t, the seal was dark. It was a basic light seal, the kind she’d used dozens of times in the field. “So why was it . . .” 

“Fluctuating? From what I have been able to determine, Nawanuke’s troubles do not stem from having too much chakra, or having poor chakra control. It is rather that he is physically incapable of regulating his flow of chakra. He can’t do it on command, of course, but he did happen to accidentally perform the Spirit Release while were running some tests, and he was accompanied by a very large surge of chakra. Most of the time he releases very little chakra, so much that he it wouldn’t be noticeable at all, but the fluctuations are large enough to make basic chakra control exercises extraordinarily difficult. And when the fluctuations are too large, he activates the Spirit Release. He simply can’t control it.” 

“So . . . he has a medical condition,” Tsunade said, taking a deep breath. “Okay. So, what do we do? Is there a way to help him regulate his chakra.” 

“I’ve been working on that,” Tsubame said, unrolling a scroll with a model of the human body drawn on it. Fuinjutsu diagrams had been scrawled all over the model. “I have a rudimentary seal that will, essentially, help him regulate how much chakra he puts out. Evening out the fluctuations and such. It may not help with the largest fluctuations just yet, but it should allow him to do basic chakra control exercises and perform jutsu. I will, of course, continue to improve it, but this will help in the meantime. I only need your word, and Nawanuke’s.” 

Tsunade crouched in front of Nawanuke. “What do you say, Nawanuke? Want to get a cool seal drawn on your so you can control your chakra better?” 

“And then I can climb up the tree like Kogane?” Nawanuke said. 

“Yep,” Tsunade confirmed. “And you’ll be able to do jutsu like him, too.” 

“I want it,” Nawanuke said. 

Tsubame stepped forward, a seal in hand. “It will be easier if he is asleep,” he said. “It will be a very long process, and he shouldn’t move at all during it.” 

Nawanuke scowled. “I’m not tired.” 

“This will make you sleep, whether you are tired or not,” Tsubame said. “And then, as soon as the seal is finished, you will wake up.” 

Nawanuke considered this. “If I gotta take a nap, can I stay up as long as I want after?” 

“Sure thing,” Tsunade said. “I’ll even buy you ice cream, if you want.” 

Nawanuke immediately grabbed at the seal. “Gimme!” 

“Move to the bed first,” Tsubame said. 

Nawanuke scrambled over to the bed and laid down. Tsubame gently placed the seal against his forehead. “Now, sleep.” 

Nawanuke’s eyes immediately slipped closed. Tsubame stepped over to the desk and began to mix his inks. “Would you mind assisting me, Tsunade?” he said. “The seal is quite extensive. It spans his entire chakra pathway system.” 

“You got it,” Tsunade said, rolling up her sleeves. “Just tell me what to do.” 

Tsubame nodded and moved to Nawanuke’s side, brush in hand. “We will start, I think, with the base of the seal, on his stomach...” 

***

“Okay, Nawa, ready to give it a try?” Tsunade asked. 

Nawa glared down at the bathtub, filled to the brim with lukewarm water. Heiwa, on the other side of the bathtub, was receiving an introductory lecture from Tsubame. When he didn’t move, Tsunade wondered if she should say something encouraging, only for Nawanuke to let out an ear-piercing shriek and jump onto the water. 

He wobbled, arms circling through the air as he tried to balance, but he hadn’t fallen in. He turned to face her unsteadily, a gap-toothed grin on his face as he tried to keep his balance. “Mom! Mom, look, I’m doing it! I’m a ninja!” 

Tsunade clapped, a grin on her face that mirrored his. “You sure did! Look at you!” 

“Excellent work, Nawanuke,” Tsubame said, holding Heiwa’s hand as she stood on the edge of the bathtub and tentatively tapped her foot against the water. 

The seals stood out in stark relief against his skin. The dark lines and elaborate letters ran all the way down his arms and legs, ending in spirals on his hands and feet, with another line leading up to his throat. They’d have to take a trip to Uzushio at least once a year to get the seals touched up, but Tsunade didn’t mind. She’d been getting a little too cooped up in Konoha, lately. 

Nawa laughed gleefully and jumped up and down, splashing water everywhere. He almost fell below the surface of the water a few times, but each time managed to steady himself. Tsunade let him enjoy himself; he deserved it. 

“D’you think I can climb trees like Kogane now?” he asked. 

“I’m sure you can,” she said. “You can try it as soon as we get home.” 

“Oh,” Heiwa said. 

Tsunade looked up, eyebrows rising as she saw Heiwa sanding on the surface of the water, Tsubame’s hands hovering around her in case she fell. 

Heiwa took a step forward, cautiously, and then another, and then jumped up and down a few times. “Oh,” she said, surprised. “It’s easy.” 

Nawanuke turned, wobbling slightly, and faced her. For the first few moments, he stared at her blankly, until a dark expression passed over his face like a thundercloud. Before Tsunade could stop him, he reached out and shoved Heiwa firmly. She gasped and fell back, but Tsubame caught her quickly. 

“Why d’you gotta ruin everything?” Nawanuke screamed at her. “You’re stupid! I hate you!” 

“Nawanuke!” Tsunade scolded. 

Nawanuke whirled around and glared at her so fiercely that, for an instant, she was lost for words. Before she could stop him, he leapt from the surface of the water and ran forwards, not stopping even when he slipped on the floor. He yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind him. 

Heiwa sniffled. 

Tsunade quickly walked around the bathtub to take her from Tsubame. Heiwa blinked at the door with watery eyes. 

“What did I do?” she wondered, in a voice so quiet and tentative that it broke Tsunade’s heart. 

Tsunade smoothed a hand over her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did a very good job.” 

Heiwa’s lower lip trembled, and Tsunade ran a hand over her hair again. Heiwa threw her arms around Tsunade’s neck, buried her face in Tsunade’s shoulder, and sobbed. 

Tsunade patted her back, and wondered what in the world she was going to do with Nawanuke. 

***

“Thanks for all your help, Tsubame. Sorry the end of it was a disaster,” Tsunade said. In the boat behind her, Nawanuke and Heiwa had taken to sitting as far away from each other as possible; they still hadn’t spoken to each other since the disastrous final lesson. 

Tsubame smiled slightly. “It was my pleasure. I will see you again in a year. Have a safe return to Konoha.” 

Tsunade waved goodbye as their guide pushed away from the dock. “I’ll let you know when we arrive! Take care of yourself, you hear? I’m going to ask Narumi for reports on your wellbeing!” 

“Don’t you dare!” Tsubame called back. 

Tsunade waved until Tsubame was nothing more than a speck on the horizon, and then sighed and took her seat between Nawanuke and Heiwa. Nawanuke kicked at a coil of rope. Heiwa fiddled with the pages of a book Tsubame had given her as a present. 

Tsunade held in a sigh. 

This was going to be a long trip back to Konoha. 


	2. Heiwa and Minori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heiwa and Minori struggle with making friends. Set before chapter 23 of anachronism.

Heiwa looked around the preschool curiously. Nawanuke always complained about preschool—he said it was boring and they tried to teach you things—but Heiwa thought it looked interesting. She could already see a lot of books that they didn’t have at home, and it looked like some kids were playing ninja. Heiwa wanted to go join them, but Tsunade was still talking to the teachers, and Heiwa wasn’t sure if she was allowed to go play yet. 

“Of course!” the teacher said, cheerfully. “We’re always _happy _to look after Nawanuke. I’m sure Heiwa will be a joy to have with us!” 

“Of course,” Tsunade echoed, before crouching down and facing Heiwa. “Ready for your first day of school?” 

Heiwa nodded. “I’m ready.” 

Tsunade ruffled her hair. “Good. Stick with Nawanuke. He knows the way home, so just go with him after school.” 

“I will,” Heiwa promised. 

Tsunade stood and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Nawanuke! Take Heiwa home after school!” 

Nawanuke, who had already run off to join the kids watching Shinobi Rangers, didn’t look back at them. “Yeah, ‘kay!” 

Tsunade ruffled Heiwa’s hair one last time before heading out the door. Heiwa was left alone. 

“Why don’t you go play with the other kids, Heiwa?” the teacher suggested. 

Heiwa nodded and stepped out into the main room. No one paid any attention to her. Nawanuke, in front of the TV, let out a cheerful shout along with the main character. “GO, RED RANGER!” 

Cautiously, Heiwa approached the group of kids playing ninja. “Can I play?” 

“Yeah, okay!” a boy said. “We’re in Suna, fighting Suna ninja!” 

Heiwa nodded. “Why are we fighting them?” 

“‘Cause they’re the bad guys!” the boy declared. 

Heiwa frowned, but decided to go along with it. Maybe the reasons for fighting the Suna ninja would become clear as the game progressed. 

Heiwa always liked playing ninja, but it was a lot more fun playing with lots of people than with just Nawanuke or Kogane’s friends. They made so much noise that the teachers made them go outside to play, which had never happened to Heiwa before. Nawanuke had been wrong—preschool was lots of fun. 

Even though she didn’t think the other kids were very smart. 

The boy who had been leading them—although Heiwa didn’t think he was a very good leader, because the kids playing as the Sand Shinobi were beating them—made a seal with his hands. It wasn’t a real seal, Heiwa knew. Kogane had taught all the seals to her already. 

“Water jutsu!” the boy yelled. “I’m gonna summon a great big water dragon to eat all the Suna ninja!” 

“That’s not how it works!” Heiwa protested. “We’re in the middle of a desert. There isn’t enough water for a water dragon.” 

The boy blew a raspberry. “So? It’s just a game. Don’t be boring!” 

“Water dragon!” another boy cheered. “Water dragon!” 

“That wouldn’t work!” Heiwa protested again. 

“Oh, yeah? Well, I summon a giant earth monster to fight the water dragon!” a boy on the Suna side declared. 

“Well, water beats earth, so ha!” 

“Does not! Earth beats water!” 

“No, water beats earth!” 

“You’re wrong,” Heiwa said. “Earth is strong against water.” 

The boy glared at her. “Are you on our side or the Suna side? You shoulda said that water beats earth!” 

Heiwa glared back at him. “But that’s wrong. Earth beats water.” 

The boy stuck out his tongue at her before turning away. Heiwa glared at him for a moment longer before leaving the sandbox. She would rather go read something than play their dumb ninja game where nothing made sense, anways. 

Another girl was already in the reading corner, flipping through a book. Heiwa pulled out one of the books from the higher shelves and took a seat next to her. 

They were quiet for a few moments, until the other girl closed her book and scooted closer to Heiwa. “What are you reading?” 

“It’s book about a girl who wants to become a ninja,” Heiwa said. 

“That’s cool,” the girl said. “I want to become a ninja, too. Both of my parents are ninja.” 

“So are mine,” Heiwa said. 

The girl nodded. “I knew that. You’re Nawanuke’s sister, right? But you’re a lot different from him.” 

“Different?” Heiwa asked. 

The girl wrinkled her nose. “Nawanuke is _loud _.” 

A clap resounded through the room. “Okay, everyone, time for a nap!” the teacher declared. “Everyone who naps, gets a snack!” 

They had a lot of mats laid out; Heiwa claimed one next to the girl she had been reading with, who said her name was Nana. Most of the other children laid down as well, eager for the promised snack. Nawanuke, however, refused. 

“I want a snack now,” he said, stubbornly. “I don’t want a nap. I’m not tired!” 

“You have to lie down,” the teacher said. “Or else you can’t have a snack. Look at how nicely Heiwa is lying down! You’re the big brother, shouldn’t you be showing her a good example?” 

Nawanuke scowled. “No! This is dumb!” 

“Nawanuke,” the teacher said firmly, only for Nawanuke to go tearing out of the preschool, slamming the front door behind him. “Nawanuke!” 

“I’ll go bring him back,” the other teacher said. 

Heiwa laid down, but couldn’t sleep. 

The teacher returned at the end of the nap without Nawanuke; the other teacher went out as well, but even she returned without him. 

The end of the school day rolled around, and still Nawanuke hadn’t returned. He was supposed to show Heiwa the way home, but that was okay. Heiwa remembered the walk to school that morning. She could find her own way home. 

The two teachers were busy talking to parents, so Heiwa didn’t want to interrupt them. She walked out the front door and turned right—she remembered that they had arrived from that direction. She could do this; if Nawanuke did it every day, how hard could it be?

What seemed like an inordinately long amount of time later, Heiwa stood in the middle of the market, with no idea how she had gotten there and no idea how she was meant to get home. 

“Nii-chan!” 

Heiwa turned and saw two boys with black hair, one close to her age and one much older. “Nii-chan, where are we going?” the younger one demanded. 

“Patience, Sasuke,” the older one said. “We’ll be there soon.” 

Heiwa’s hands clenched in her shirt as she squeezed her eyes shut. Kogane would know how to get home. He wouldn’t have left her alone in the first place. 

“Heiwa?” 

Heiwa’s eyes flew open to see a boy with black hair staring at her—except she knew him, she realized. “Obito-nii.” 

Obito grinned at her. “Hey, Heiwa, what are you doing all the way out here? Where’s your mom?” 

Heiwa shook her head. 

“Did you get lost?” Obito said, sympathetically. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you home. Kogane! Hey, Kogane!” 

“You do not need to yell. I am right here.” 

Kogane stepped out from the crowd. The moment his eyes met hers, the tears Heiwa had been holding back overflowed. “Nii-chan!” 

“Heiwa?” he said, clearly taken aback “Why are you crying?” 

Heiwa, still crying, could only shake her head. Kogane picked her up in his usual, straightforward manner. “There’s no reason to cry,” he informed her. “You’re not hurt at all.” 

Heiwa nodded and sniffled. 

“She got lost, of course she’s upset,” Obito said. 

After a moment, Kogane nodded. “I understand. It can be quite upsetting when you are not given the required intel. I will ensure Mother gives you a map next time.” 

“Nawanuke left me behind!” Heiwa cried. 

“So you were all alone?” Obito asked sympathetically. Heiwa sniffled and nodded, and Obito patted her head. “You did a good job making it all the way here by yourself, Heiwa! Kogane, you should take her home.” 

“Of course. I apologize for abandoning our training,” Kogane said. 

Heiwa sniffled until Kogane handed her a tissue and instructed her to blow her nose. “Nii-chan,” she said, once she was able to speak without sniffling. “Will you train with me?” 

“What do you wish to learn?” 

“I wanna do jutsu like Nidaime-sama,” she said. 

Kogane nodded. “I have a jutsu that I can teach you.” 

“You aren’t busy?” Heiwa asked. 

“If I was, I would not have offered,” he said. 

Heiwa nodded. “Nii-chan? A water dragon wouldn’t work in a desert, would it?” 

“If you were next to an oasis or a river, or a similar source of water, then it would. It would take an incredible amount of chakra to create that much water from your own body, and most people would kill themselves if they attempted to do so,” Kogane said. “In an ordinary desert environment, far away from any source of water, if would be nearly impossible.” 

“Thought so,” Heiwa muttered. 

She _knew _that the kids at preschool were dumb.

***

Heiwa was beginning to understand how Nawanuke felt about preschool. It had been fun, at first, but few of the books there were very interesting, and she’d already read all of the ones that did seem interesting. Most of the kids didn’t like to play ninja, and the ones that did had recently stopped letting Heiwa playing with them. 

She hadn’t tried to play with the group of kids from her first day again, but today they were the only group playing ninja, so she didn’t have a choice but to go up to them. “Can I play?” 

A few of the kids who had been playing ninja looked at the boy who was playing leader, as he usually was. “We don’t want you,” he declared. “You’re too bossy and boring!” 

Heiwa looked at the other kids. Most of them looked away, but a few of them nodded in agreement. “Fine,” Heiwa said, stung. “I don’t want to play your game anyways. You’re all bad at being ninja!” 

She left before they could retaliate. The exchange had left her not in the mood for reading, but she didn’t want to play anything else or watch television, either. One of the teachers was busy preparing snacks, however. Sometimes Tanaka-ba-san let Heiwa help make dinner or lunch, and that was fun, so Heiwa went to the teacher’s side. 

“Heiwa, what’s the matter? Don’t you want to play with the other kids?” 

Heiwa shook her head. “Can I help?” 

The teacher blinked at her, surprised, and then smiled. “Why, of course! You can help me put crackers on each plate. Here, let me get you a step stool. Now, each plate should have six crackers—yes, exactly like that. You know how to count already? You must be very smart!” 

Once they had finished preparing the snack, the teacher sent Heiwa off to take a nap with the rest of the students. Nawanuke, for once, agreed to take a nap, although he kept whispering to the people next to him instead of actually napping. Eventually he fell silent, but Heiwa herself couldn’t fall asleep. 

Just as she was about to drift off, whispers from the teachers woke her up again. 

“I had no idea two siblings could be so different!” 

“I know, right? Heiwa is so well-behaved, and Nawanuke is, well . . .” 

“A terror?” 

“I was going to say a monster.” 

They laughed quietly. “I can’t wait for him to go to the Academy,” the teacher said. “But I almost wish Heiwa would stay! She offered to help me make snacks. Isn’t that sweet?” 

“She’s a good kid,” the other teacher agreed. “Oh, speaking of which, we should set the snacks out . . .” 

“Oh, you’re right—they probably won’t stay down for much longer—” 

“Especially not Nawanuke!” 

Heiwa rolled over. On the other side of the row of kids, Nawanuke was still lying down, but she could see his shoulders hunched up towards his ears. 

The teachers thought she was a good kid, because she wasn’t like Nawanuke, so they wanted to spend time with her. Did that mean Nawanuke was a bad kid, and that was why the teachers and the other kids didn’t like him? 

Maybe, if Heiwa was better at being a good kid, the other kids would want to spend time with her more. Nawanuke yelled a lot, so Heiwa would be quiet. Nawanuke was mean, so Heiwa would be nice. 

After naptime ended and they finished their snacks, Heiwa went back to the group she had tried to play with. There was one thing that Nawanuke never, ever did, and maybe if she did it, they would like her again. 

“I’m sorry for being bossy,” she said. “Can I play with you?” 

The boy shrugged and looked around; a few of the other students also looked at each other, and finally, one of them nodded. 

The boy nodded too. “Yeah, okay, but you can’t complain about the water dragons!” 

“Okay,” Heiwa agreed. 

She almost wondered if it was worth it. Still, at least it was better than playing alone, even if they didn’t know anything about jutsu except from what they learned from Shinobi Rangers. And Heiwa knew for a fact that Shinobi Rangers was inaccurate—Kogane always said so. 

Nawanuke ran off before preschool was over, but Murata-san came to pick her up. Heiwa liked it when Murata-san picked her up; he always bought her ice cream on the way home. Usually, no one was home when she got back from preschool, since Tsunade and Dan were usually at work. Today, however, Kogane was sitting in the living room, organizing his weapons. 

Heiwa sat across from him, watching. “Nii-chan, do you have friends?” 

“I do,” Kogane said. 

“How did you get them?” 

“Kakashi and I became friends because our parents were friends.” 

Heiwa frowned. “Do Mom and Dad have friends with kids I could be friends with?” 

“Narumi Uzumaki has a nephew who is your age,” Kogane said. “However, they live in Uzushio.” 

“Oh,” Heiwa said. “What about your other friends?” 

“I met them after starting at the Academy.” 

“That’s in forever!” 

“Five years,” Kogane said. “Not forever.” 

“That’s forever!” 

“It is not.” 

“It is!” 

“This is a ridiculous argument, and I am ending it now,” Kogane said firmly. 

Heiwa stuck her tongue at him, before remembering that she was trying not to be like Nawanuke. 

“Am I gonna have to wait that long to have friends?” she asked. 

“Possibly,” Kogane said. 

Heiwa sulked. “Fine. I don’t need friends anyways.”

“Friendships are a necessary part of human development,” Kogane said. “Having connections with other people is also an important part of becoming Hokage.” 

“I don’t need them!” Heiwa said. “You’re dumb!” 

She left Kogane to his weapons, storming up to her room. She had several stuffed animals sitting on the bed, so she took them and arranged them on the floor. 

“You’re my advisors,” she informed them. “And I’m the Hokage. And—and I’m Hokage because the Nidaime is also my advisor, so there.” 

The animals stared up at her with their beady eyes. 

“First,” she told them, “we’re going to make Shinobi Rangers illegal, because it’s dumb and innaccurate.” 

***

Every morning, Minori went to Konohagakure Preschool. Minori liked preschool; they learned lots of interesting things, and he had lots of friends to play with, and afterwards he got to go home and tell his parents about how his day had been and give them things he’d made during arts and crafts.

Minori had lots of friends, but his best friend was Ami. Ami always wanted to play the same things as him, whether they were playing ninja or building sand castles on the playground. She liked to read books too, and never minded that he didn’t really like watching Shinobi Rangers like the other kids. 

Usually, he walked to preschool by himself, and then spent the day there until someone came to pick him up, most often one of his parents but sometimes Rin or Shizune. Today, however, Obito was taking him to school because he had been assigned to a mission and wanted to spend some time with Minori before he had to leave. So far it had taken them two hours instead of the usual half an hour, but Minori didn’t mind. 

Obito was finishing up his last-minute shopping at the moment, which left Minori free to entertain himself. Minori didn’t mind entertaining himself. The market was always so interesting; there was always something new to see, and sometimes people smiled at him and patted his head and said, “Want some candy, Honorable Grandson?” 

Minori didn’t know what an Honorable Grandson was, but he liked the candy. 

Right now, though, everyone was too distracted scolding the genin who had let a jutsu get out of hand to pay attention to him. Minori had watched them for a bit, but then he had found something much more interesting. 

Minori stared down at the two animals moving across the ground. One of them, small and black, had six legs. The other, long and skinny, had too many legs to count. Minori had tried, and had gotten to twenty-one before losing track of which ones he had already counted. He didn’t know what type of animal they were; the animals in the books Kabuto read to him all had two or four legs. 

Keepings his eyes fixed on the animals to make sure they didn’t get away, Minori stepped back to Obito’s side and tugged on his shirt. “Papa—” 

“Oh, Obito!” 

Obito dropped his money all over the ground. “Gah! Mikoto-ba-san!” 

Minori looked up at the stranger who had just approached them. She looked kind of like Obito, except older. 

“It’s been a while,” the woman said. Her eyes landed on Minori. She smiled slightly, but for some reason it didn’t put him at ease, like Kakashi and Obito’s smiles did. “This must be Kakashi’s child.” 

Obito’s hand landed on Minori’s shoulder. Minori looked up to see that he was smiling, too, but it was somehow different from when he smiled at Minori. “That’s right. This is my son, Minori. How have you been, Mikoto-san?” 

Obito’s hand remained on Minori’s shoulder as he talked with Mikoto, discussing a bunch of names that Minori didn’t recognize. He stared at the animals on the ground. The small one with six legs had been joined by a bunch of the same animal, all marching in a line. 

His attention was drawn away when Obito’s hand tightened on his shoulder and pulled Minori closer to his side.

“You and Minori are always welcome to return to the clan, of course,” Mikoto said. 

“Thanks for the offer,” Obito said. “I should get going, though. I’m taking Minori to preschool, and we’re running late.” 

“Of course. I should head home as well. Think about what I said,” Mikoto said. 

She left, and Obito sighed. When he looked down at Minori, though, he was smiling. “Ready to go?” 

Minori nodded, and took Obito’s offered hand. “Who was that, Papa?” 

“Hm? Oh, that was Mikoto Uchiha,” Obito said. “She and I were part of the same clan, before I married Daddy.” 

Minori knew what a clan was. A clan was a really, really big family. “Are you and I part of the clan?” 

“We’re part of the Hatake clan, like Daddy and Jii-chan,” Obito said. “I left the Uchiha clan.” 

“Oh,” Minori said. “And that lady wanted you to come back? Why?” 

“She was just concerned about me,” Obito said, with a little laugh. “She’s worried Daddy is taking advantage of my good nature.” 

“Is he?” Minori asked. 

Obito laughed even louder. “If anything, I’m the one taking advantage of Kakashi!” 

“Are you?” Minori asked. 

No, I’m not,” Obito said, still laughing a little. “Daddy and I both love each other very much.” 

“And me?” 

“We love you most of all!” Obito declared. 

“So we’re not gonna join the Uchiha clan?” 

“Never,” Obito said. He stopped, even though they were in the street, and crouched down so he and Minori were face to face. The expression on his face made Minori’s heart pound faster in his chest. “Minori, you should be careful around the Uchiha. Some of them aren’t nice people. If one of them tries to bother you, you should run and find me or Daddy. Okay?” 

Minori nodded. The frightening expression melted off Obito’s face, replaced with a smile that immediately set Minori at ease. If Obito was smiling, then he was happy, and that meant things couldn’t be bad. “But that’s enough serious talk! Let’s run to preschool before you’re even more late. Up you go!” 

Minori laughed, delighted, as Obito hoisted Minori onto his shoulders and took off at a run. 

“Oh! Daddy, what animal has six legs?” 

“What? An animal with six legs? Is there one? Or is this one of those weird riddles Kakashi likes?” 

“I saw it! And one that had lots more! At least twenty!” 

“Wait, more than twenty legs? Do you mean a bug?” 

“What’s a bug?” 

“A bug is . . . uh, they have legs, a lot of them, but the number kind of varies. And usually they’re small—oh, but they can be big, too. You know what, it’ll be easier to show you. We can go bug hunting when I come home.” 

“Hunting? Are we eating them?” 

“Don’t eat bugs, Minori.” 

***

The teacher looked up in surprise when Minori and Obito walked in. “Oh! Minori, you’re late.”

Obito laughed sheepishly. “My fault, sorry. I wanted to do some shopping before school, and then there were a few incidents in the market, and I had to help straighten things out. The things genin get up to sometimes—ah, shi-shoot, I’ve got to run. Bye, Minori, love you. I’ll see you in two weeks, if everything goes well. Oh, and Rin’s going to pick you up today.” 

Minori waved at him. “Bye, Papa!” 

“I think Ami is out in the playground,” the teacher said to him. 

The playground was fairly small, with only a sandbox, a swingset, and a climbing structure. Despite that, Minori didn’t see her anywhere. Usually, when they played together they played in the sandbox or on the climbing structure, but she wasn’t in either of those places. There was one place he hadn’t checked, however—the small strip of grass around the back of the school building, where there was a shed with various playground equipment. They weren’t allowed to go in the shed, but sometimes people liked to go back there anyways. 

As Minori approached the corner of the building, he heard girls laughing and giggling—and, among them, Ami’s voice. Minori stepped towards the corner of the building, a greeting on his lips. 

“I didn’t think you liked Shinobi Rangers, Ami! You never want to watch it with us.” 

“Yeah, you always want to play with Minori. Aren’t you two best friends?” 

“Best friends? As if,” Ami said. 

Minori froze. 

“But you’re always spending time with him!” 

“Only because my mom told me to,” Ami said. “He’s the Hokage’s grandson, didn’t you know that?”

“My mom told me to be nice to him, too.” 

“Yeah, my parents told me the same thing!” 

Ami continued to speak, unaware of the icy feeling gripping Minori’s chest. “I wouldn’t spend time with him otherwise. He’s so _weird _.” 

Obito always said that Kakashi was weird, and Kakashi always said that Obito was even weirder. Minori had thought that being weird was a good thing, because Obito and Kakashi always laughed and smiled when they said it. But Ami said it like it was a bad thing. 

“He doesn’t even know what the Shinobi Rangers are,” Ami said. 

It was true; Minori didn’t have a television at his house, and although they sometimes played Shinobi Rangers on the television at the preschool, Minori would rather be outside. Outside was more interesting. There was always something new to see. 

The girls tittered. 

Minori hadn’t known that not knowing what the Shinobi Rangers were was a bad thing. He hadn’t even known that Ami liked Shinobi Rangers; she never said she wanted to watch it. She always wanted to do the same things as Minori. 

“All he ever wants to do is play ninja or read,” Ami said. “He’s so boring.” 

“And _creepy _,” one girl said. “He’s always staring at things!” 

Creepy, Minori knew, was a bad thing. He waited for Ami to deny it—she wouldn’t let someone say bad things about him. They were friends. 

But Ami laughed. “He is creepy! If my mom hadn’t said to spend time with him, I wouldn’t hang out with him at all. I wish he was absent more.”

“But it’s not like we have to deal with him for long. He’s probably going to be a ninja.” 

“Yeah, but my mom wants me to be a ninja,” Ami said. “She says being a ninja is the only path to success in Konoha. That’s why she wants me to spend time with him. I’m gonna be stuck with him forever!” 

“Ew, that’s horrible!” 

“Imagine being stuck with someone who doesn’t even know what the Shinobi Rangers are.”

“The Shinobi Rangers are the best!” 

“Ami, who’s your favorite Shinobi Ranger?” 

“The purple one, duh!” 

Minori crept back from the corner and walked back to the school building. 

He had thought that Ami was his best friend. They did everything together. But she thought he was weird, and creepy. Because he didn’t know what the Shinobi Rangers were? Because he liked to read and play ninja? Because he liked to watch things, and figure out how they worked, because they were interesting? 

That was just how he was. He couldn’t help that. 

Ami had always seemed like she was having fun with him. She always smiled and laughed, and that meant you were happy and having fun. 

Minori knew that people could lie with their words, like when he and Obito lied to Kakashi about not eating cookies before dinner. But he hadn’t known that people could lie with their faces, too. 

Minori closed the door to the school around him and looked around. The teachers were all busy. One of them was busy preparing snacks, and one of them was changing the channel to the Shinobi Rangers for a group of kids. Minori hadn’t really felt much of anything towards the Shinobi Rangers before, but now it made him feel sick. But he didn’t want to go back into the yard, either; that was where Ami was. 

Minori kept walking, and no one stopped him, even when he walked right out the front door. 

He wandered back through the market, the way he and Obito had come. No one tried to stop him, although a few people called out to him.

“Honorable Grandson! Honorable Grandson!” 

Minori looked up and saw a merchant, one who ran a snack shop that Obito stopped at sometimes. 

The man smiled. “Honorable Grandson, would you like a candy?” 

Minori looked at his smile. It looked like any other smile. But was it real? Or was he lying with his face?

The man’s smile didn’t change. 

“What does Honorable Grandson mean?” Minori asked. 

“Why, it means you’re the Hokage’s grandson!” the man exclaimed. 

“_He’s the Hokage’s grandson_,” Ami had said. 

Ami only played with him because he was the Hokage’s grandson. The Hokage, Minori knew, was someone very important, and that was why Jii-chan was always too busy to play with him. 

The man who ran the snack shop probably only gave him candy because Minori was the Hokage’s grandson. He probably didn’t like Minori either. 

Minori kept walking. He was careful not to stare at anything, this time. He didn’t want people to think he was creepy and weird, like Ami and the other girls did. Maybe they already thought he was weird and creepy, and they just didn’t say so, because he was the Hokage’s grandson. 

He froze in his tracks. 

What if Obito and Kakashi thought he was creepy? 

The thought made him feel horrible, like a giant hand was clenching around his chest and squeezing tight. He couldn’t breathe. 

“Honorable Grandson? Are you alright? Come sit down. I have some candy that you would like.” 

Minori ran. He tripped over his own feet and caught himself with his hands, skinning them against the dirt road. Tears sprang to his eyes, but he kept running, pushing himself to keep going. 

He turned the corner and crashed right into someone. He fell back, but the other person only stumbled slightly. Minori scrubbed his eyes with his sleeve and pushed himself to his feet, trying to ignore the stinging pains in his hands. 

“I—Kakashi’s son?” 

Minori looked up into the face of the woman who had talked to Obito in the market. 

Mikoto Uchiha, he had called her. 

“Minori-chan, what’s wrong?” she asked. “It’s okay, you can tell me.” 

She smiled at him, and he realized that it looked like the smile the man who ran the snack shop had given him. 

“You’re covered in dirt. Come here, I can help you get cleaned up, and you can tell me what happened.” 

She reached out to him. 

_Some Uchiha aren’t nice people, _Obito had said. If she wasn’t nice, and she didn’t like him, what would she do to him? 

Fear lanced through him, and on instinct he reached out and shoved her back. “Stay away!” 

Mikoto stumbled back, her eyes wide. Minori stood there, his hands outstretched, still stinging with pain. Blood dripped from one of his hands onto the ground. The market was strangely hushed, and he realized that everyone around them had turned to stare. 

“That’s Mikoto Uchiha—what’s she doing to the Hokage’s grandson?” 

“Is he injured?” 

“Look, he’s bleeding.” 

“Should we get the police?” 

“What would the _police _do? They’re Uchiha too. Is there an ANBU nearby?” 

Minori hadn’t realized that staring felt so _terrible _, like there would be nothing better than to disappear forever as long as it would mean no one would be looking at him. Was this how his staring made people feel? 

No wonder Ami thought he was creepy. 

Unable to bear it, Minori darted past Mikoto and shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the people among them who tried calling out to him. He kept running and didn’t stop until he’d reached home. 

Obito wasn’t there—he must have gone on his mission already—and neither was Kakashi. Minori threw off his shoes and didn’t bother with slippers as he ran through the house, throwing himself into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. He wanted to curl up in his bed with his blankets and stuffed animals, but stopped when he realized his hands were still wet with blood. 

Minori stared down at his hands. He’d hurt himself playing ninja now and then, but never like this. This was too big to put a bandaid on. Tears welled up in his eyes. 

Unsure what to do, Minori stood there and cried. 

A soft tap against his window drew his attention. Sniffling, Minori turned to see an ANBU in the window. The ANBU dipped their head and dropped in through the window, kneeling in front of Minori. The ANBU reached out to take Minori’s hands, examined them for a moment, and then walked towards Minori’s bathroom. 

Minori stared at them, but upon realizing that he was staring, quickly stopped and looked at the ground instead. 

“Come,” the ANBU said. “We must clean your injuries before I can heal them.” 

Minori hurried after the ANBU, who picked Minori up and placed him on the bathroom counter. His hands were gentle, but firm as he washed Minori’s hands clean, and then moved on to Minori’s knees. Minori hadn’t even realized he had hurt his knees, but now that the ANBU was paying attention to them, they stung horribly. 

“Do not cry,” the ANBU said. “I will heal them soon.” 

Minori tried to stem his tears as the ANBU bent down over Minori’s hands, a few loose strands of blond hair slipping out of his hood. Green chakra glowed around his hands. Slowly, the pain faded from Minori’s hands. 

Minori sniffled. “ANBU-san? Do you have a name?” 

“You may address me as Boar,” the ANBU said. 

“Boar-san,” Minori said. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you my friend?” 

“I am not your friend. I am your bodyguard,” the ANBU said. 

“Oh. What’s a bodyguard?” 

“It means that I am responsible for your well-being. If someone were hurting you, then I would stop them.” 

“That sounds like what friends do.” 

“It is different. Bodyguards protect people because it is their job. Friends protect each other because they like each other.” 

“Oh. Do you like me?” Minori asked. 

“I do,” the ANBU said. 

“Why?” 

“Because of who you are,” the ANBU said. 

“Not because I’m the Hokage’s grandson?”

“I do not see what that has to do with liking who you are as a person. However, as the Hokage’s grandson, some people may see you as an avenue to higher standing. You should be wary of such people, as they may seek to take advantage of you,” the ANBU said. 

Like Ami. “Why would people not like me?” 

“Sometimes people do not like other people, just because of how they are,” the ANBU said. “There is nothing you can do to control this.” 

“So people dislike me, just because of how I am?” Minori asked. 

“Correct,” the ANBU said. 

Minori thought about this for a moment. "Am I a bad person?" 

"You are not," the ANBU said. 

"My friends said I was creepy, and being creepy is bad." 

"Why did they say that?" 

"Because I stare at things too much and I don't know what the Shinobi Rangers are." 

"I do not know what a children's television show has to do with your moral quality," the ANBU said. 

Minori did not know what moral quality was. "I don't think you give very good advice." 

"You have not asked me for advice." 

"Oh," Minori said. "What if I was different? Would they like me then?” 

“It is impossible to say,” the ANBU said. 

“But could they?” 

“If you were a different person, different people would like you,” the ANBU said. 

“If I was a different person, would you still like me?” Minori asked. 

“I could not say,” the ANBU said. 

Maybe if Minori was different, his friends would actually like him. And if they still didn't like him, at least it wouldn't really be him they disliked, but the person he was pretending to be. 

The ANBU was silent. After a moment, he stepped back. “I have healed your injuries. I must return to my duties. Is there anything else you require?” 

“Oh. No, I’m okay,” Minori said. 

The ANBU nodded, and then he was gone. 

Minori hopped down from the counter. 

Normally, at this time of day, he would be at preschool, playing with Ami. But Ami didn’t want to play with him, and the thought of returning to the preschool filled him with dread. Minori padded across his room to the bed and buried himself under his blankets. 

Playing ninja was no fun alone. 

***

“I’m worried about Minori.” 

Minori paused, his hand on the doorknob. He’d been about to see if his parents were awake and if breakfast was ready, but now he wasn’t sure if he should go outside. 

“He hasn’t been wanting to go to preschool,” Obito said. “He loves preschool! Or he used to. I don’t know, maybe it’s too early? But it’s important for him to get to know kids his own age instead of just adults, and preschool is a good way to do that, and it’ll prepare him for the Academy . . .” 

“Obito, calm down.” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down! Haven’t you seen how unhappy he looks?” Obito sobbed. Kakashi murmured something comforting, but Minori couldn’t hear it. 

He took a step back from the front door, and then another. He retreated all the way to his bathroom and stood up on his step-stool. 

His reflection stared back at him. 

Obito had said he looked unhappy, and that had made Obito upset. Obito didn’t like it when he was unhappy. If Minori looked happy, then Obito wouldn’t be unhappy. 

Minori smiled. 

It didn’t look right. Obito and Kakashi looked different when they smiled. When Kakashi smiled, Minori could only tell because of the way his eye crinkled up at the corners. Minori smiled, and this time crinkled up his eyes. 

That looked real. 

Satisfied, Minori hopped down from the stool and returned to the kitchen. Obito looked up as he entered and quickly scrubbed at his face. “Oh! Minori, you’re awake! What do you want to eat?” 

He was smiling, but it didn’t look real. Minori smiled at him, and hoped it looked real. “Pancakes!” 

Obito laughed. He was still smiling, but now it looked more genuine. “Pancakes, huh? Coming right up!” 

Minori took a seat at the table. Kakashi looked at him over the newspaper. “Someone’s in a good mood.” 

“Uhuh!” Minori said, grinning at him. “I feel lots better!” 

In the kitchen, Obito hummed a cheerful little song, one that Minori didn’t know. Kakashi observed Minori for a moment more before returning to his newspaper. 

Obito served them all fluffy pancakes with syrup. Minori made sure to eat them all, because Obito had looked sad when Minori had picked at his food over the past few days. Honestly, Minori still didn’t feel that hungry, but he didn’t want Obito to be sad. 

Kakashi took over cleanup duty after the meal, leaving Obito and Minori at the table. “Now, what do you want to do?” Obito asked. “It’s a Saturday, so no school.” 

Minori was thankful for that; he wasn’t sure he was ready to take his new smile to school, yet. “I—” 

A knock against the door resounded through the house. Frowning, Obito stood and headed to the door. “Kakashi? Were we expecting anyone?” 

“Not that I know of,” Kakashi said. 

Obito opened the door. “Oh, Kogane! And Heiwa, too.” 

“I attempted to bring Nawanuke as well, but Nawanuke ran away,” a familiar voice said. Minori frowned; it almost sounded like—

“Well, come on in,” Obito said, ushering in a man with blond hair and a girl who looked only a little older than Minori. “I didn’t know they were back from Uzushio.” 

“They just returned yesterday,” Kogane said. “Heiwa expressed an interesting in meeting more people her own age.” 

“That’s right, you two haven’t met,” Obito said, gesturing Minori closer. “Minori, this is Heiwa. She’s around your age, so get along, okay?” 

Heiwa, then, would be the next test for Minori’s smile. 

“Go out in the yard, it’s a beautiful day,” Obito said, already ushering them out the door and pulling Kogane inside. 

For a moment, Heiwa and Minori just looked at each other. 

“How old are you?” Minori asked. 

“I’m four,” she said. 

“Oh. I’m only three,” he said. “Want to play?” 

Heiwa considered him for a moment. “If we play ninja, can I be the Hokage?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Minori said. “Since you’re my nee-chan, that makes sense!” 

Heiwa nodded. “You can be my second-in-command.” 

“That sounds fun,” Minori said, and gave her a grin. 

When Heiwa smiled back at him, he was almost certain that it was real. 


	3. Tsubame and Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Tsubame is eight years old, Uzushiogakure prepares for a union with Nami. Set before the events of anachronism.

The sun was setting on Uzushio, lighting the village up red and gold, and still Tsubame lingered outside, dangling his legs over the side of the canal and letting his toes skim over the top of the water. Occasionally, a few brightly colored fish tried to nibble at his toes, and he sprinkled a little more of the bun he’d been eating over the water. His genin teammates had all run off long ago, called home by the promise of dinner and demands from their parents to be home before dark. Tsubame’s father didn’t care when he came home. He was too busy with his duties as Uzukage to care about his second son, and Tsubame liked to watch darkness fall over the village. 

He didn’t get up until the water was dark and the sky lit up with stars. He walked through the streets of Uzushio, as close as he could get to being alone in a village where everyone knew him. Every few moments he was waylaid by older relatives scolding him for being out too late or offering him a snack, nevermind that it was almost time for dinner. Tsubame smiled at them and politely accepted the scolding and politely refused the snacks. 

The house was busy with dinner preparations when he reached home. “Dinner is ready, Tsubame-chan,” one of the maids promised, giving him a fond pat on the head before ushering him away. “Go see if your father will be joining us.” 

His father would inevitably be in his home office, working. His staff forced him to go home at night, now that he was old and close to retiring, but he just worked at home instead. His office was located at the far end of the house. “Away from noisy children,” his father had said, although Tsubame was rarely home and never noisy when he was. 

Usually the office was silent but for the quiet sweep of his father’s ink-deeped brush on paper, but today the sound of quiet conversations greeted him as he neared the room. He crept closer, unwilling to get scolded for interrupting an important meeting. 

“—I have informed my son, and he agreed with the decision,” his father said, capturing Tsubame’s attention instantly. He pressed himself up against the wall, holding his breath just in case. 

“Excellent,” one of the clan elders said—Tsubame couldn’t tell who by his voice. “Uzushiogakure needs allies in the years to come. Nami will serve us well.” 

“We must begin planning the wedding at once,” another elder said. 

Tsubame must have made a noise, because the voices fell silent and footsteps moved towards the door. Tsubame stepped away from the wall, trying not to look as if he’d been eavesdropping. 

The door opened, and his father stared down at him severely. “Tsubame. You know better than to bother me in my office.” 

“Sorry, Father,” Tsubame said, ducking his head as if his father would be able to see the guilt in his eyes. “The maids wished for me to inform you that dinner is ready.” 

“I’ll take it in my office,” his father said shortly, and then shut the door firmly. A burst of chakra told him that his father had activated the seals around his office to keep Tsubame from listening in, so Tsubame retreated, knowing that he wouldn’t get any more information from that quarter.

Tsubame would have better luck with his brother. His brother was home, for once, as was more common in recent days—it used to be that he would spend most of his days out of the village, busy with missions and diplomatic visits, but now he was training to take over as Uzukage and spent most of his time at their father’s side. 

Tsubame was stopped, however, by one of the maids, and forced to sit through dinner. His brother must have decided to take dinner on his own as well, so Tsubame ate alone, slowly picking his way through the meal under the watchful eye of the maids. He was swept off to take a bath as soon as he was done, and only then was he left to his own devices again. No doubt the maids had intended for him to go to bed, but Tsubame slipped away from his room and went to the next room over. 

He nudged the door open just a crack and peeked through. His brother was in his room, as Tsubame had thought, brushing a comb through his long, red hair. Tsubame had been trying to grow his hair out as well, but so far had only gotten it to each as far as his shoulders. 

“I know you’re there, Tsubame,” his brother said. He turned to face Tsubame, smiling in amusement. “Quit lingering by the door and sit here. I’ll brush your hair for you.” 

“I can brush my hair myself, Nii-san,” Tsubame protested. His brother beckoned to him, and Tsubame gave in and went to sit in front of him. 

“You need a haircut,” his brother noted, as the comb ran through Tsubame’s still-damp hair. 

“I don’t want one,” Tsubame said. “I want hair like yours.” 

His brother laughed. “You have a long way to go before you can handle hair like this. You’ll end up cutting it all off when someone grabs it in the middle of a fight.” 

“I won’t!” Tsubame protested. “You never have to cut yours.” 

“Because I don’t let anyone get close enough.” 

“Then neither will I,” Tsubame said firmly. 

“You’ll get annoyed by it and cut it off the moment it gets too long,” he said. 

“I won’t,” Tsubame insisted. 

“Why do you want long hair so much, anyways?” 

“I like the way it looks,” Tsubame said. 

“Is that why?” His brother laughed. “You know a shinobi shouldn’t be vain.” 

“I’m not vain!” 

“So you don’t want me to braid your hair?” 

Tsubame fell silent for a moment. “I didn’t say that,” he muttered. “Why do you have long hair, then?” 

His brother didn’t respond for a moment, just tugged on Tsubame’s hair as he started to braid it. “It makes me happier,” he said at last, with a final tug to Tsubame’s hair. “There you are, all done. Now run along to bed. You have more training tomorrow.” 

Instead of getting up, Tsubame turned around to face him. “Nii-san, are you getting married?” 

His brother stared back at him evenly. “I suppose I am.” 

“Do you like her? What’s she like?” Tsubame asked. 

“I don’t even know her, Tsubame. It’s a political marriage, like Ba-san’s,” he explained. 

Tsubame nodded; he’d met his aunt a few times, while visiting their cousins in Konoha. Tsunade was older than him and too bossy, but she was fun to train with. “Are you going to have kids?” 

A frown flashed across his brother’s face, almost too quickly for Tsubame to notice it. “I suppose I’ll have to.” 

“You don’t have to,” Tsubame said, knowing that something was wrong even if he didn’t know entirely what. “I can be your successor. Father can’t make you.” 

That made his brother smile, a real one. “I wouldn’t put it past him. But thank you, Tsubame. Now go to bed.” 

Tsubame nodded and got up to go to bed, leaving his brother frowning at the mirror. He wanted to stay, to ask if he was upset and what had upset him, but he didn’t know how. 

***

Tsubame shot up in bed, heart pounding in his chest, and slid out of bed and darted out the door without a moment’s thought. He stopped as he reached the door to his parents’ bedroom, hand hovering above the sliding panel, and almost turned to go before he realized that there was a light flickering inside. Slowly, he slid open the door and peered inside. 

A figure with long, red hair stood in front of the closet, and his heart leapt in his chest. “Mom?” 

The figure jumped and whirled around, slamming the door shut, and Tsubame’s heart sank again. “Oh. Nii-san.” 

His brother took a deep breath. “Tsubame. It’s just you.” 

Tsubame scrubbed at his eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of them. “We’re not supposed to be in Father’s room.” 

“I know,” he said, coming forwards to stand in front of Tsubame. “I was just looking for something. Why are you awake, Tsubame?” 

“I had a bad dream,” Tsubame whispered. 

His brother knelt down so they were face-to-face and smoothed back a loose strand of Tsubame’s hair. “About the Kiri shinobi?” 

Tsubame pressed his lips together, trying not to cry, and nodded. Understanding washed over his brother’s face as he reached out and pulled Tsubame into his arms. He stood, scooping Tsubame into his arms, and walked from the room, shutting the door behind him with his foot. “It’s alright,” he soothed, stroking a gentle hand over Tsubame’s hair. “You did what you had to do. It’s not your fault.” 

“I want Mom,” Tsubame said, choking back a sob. 

“I know,” his brother said. “I know, I miss her too. It’s okay to miss her, no matter what Father said. It’s okay.” 

“Father said I shouldn’t cry,” Tsubame said, clenching his hands in Tsubame’s shirt. “Because I’m a shinobi now, and crying makes you weak.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with crying,” his brother said, as he opened another door and stepped through. “Man or woman, adult or child. We’re shinobi, but we’re humans first. Don’t forget that, Tsubame, or you’ll forget why we fight.” 

“Why we fight?” Tsubame echoed. 

His brother knelt down on his futon, setting Tsubame down beside him, and pulled the blanket over them both. “We fight to protect our family,” he said. “You, and Father, and the clan, and the whole village. You’re my family. I’d do anything to protect you.” 

“Like Mom?” Tsubame asked. 

“Exactly like Mom,” his brother agreed. “And like you.” 

Tsubame shied away from thoughts of the Kiri shinobi, of his warm, red blood. Tsubame hated the color red, sometimes, just as much as he loved it. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. 

“I know,” his brother said. “You can sleep in my bed tonight.” 

“Father said—” 

“Father won’t know,” he said. “Now go to sleep.” 

Tsubame quieted and got comfortable on the futon, and his brother stayed beside him, lying protectively between Tsubame and the door. 

***

The household was absorbed with preparations for the wedding from that day on. Tsubame’s eighth birthday came and went in the middle of a mission, so that even his sensei and teammates forgot all about it, and only his brother remembered when he returned home, eight years and two weeks old. 

“I’m sorry it’s not much of a present,” he said as Tsubame poured over the fuinjutsu notes he’d received. He had an expression on his face that Tsubame had last seen in the days after their mother’s death, stressed and tired and sad all at once. 

“It’s amazing,” Tsubame said, honestly, because the only thing he loved as much as his family was fuinjutsu. “It’s the best present ever.” 

“What did Father give you?” 

Tsubame flipped to the next page of the notes and shrugged. 

“He _did _get you a present,” his brother said. 

“No,” Tsubame said, at last. “It’s okay. He’s busy with preparing for the wedding and retirement.” 

“That’s no excuse,” he said, frowning, although Tsubame wasn’t sure whether he was frowning about the present or at the mention of the wedding. 

“It’s okay,” Tsubame said again. “It would probably be a terrible present anyways. Like a haircut.” 

His brother smiled at that, but didn’t laugh. “If you want me to talk to him—” 

Tsubame shook his head. “But you could train with me, some time,” he suggested instead. 

“Whenever you want,” he promised, even though Tsubame knew he was too busy to promise something like that. He spent all day talking to their father or to the elders, being hounded with preparations for the wedding and taking up the mantle as Uzukage. It was okay because Tsubame was busy, too, off on missions with his team. D-ranks, mostly, helping with wedding preparations, or the occasional C-rank. Most of them went well. Some of them didn’t. 

That was okay, too. It got easier. It stopped hurting so much when he met the eyes of an opponent after sliding his sword into their belly; it stopped feeling like anything at all. Sana cried every time, crying over her hands as she washed off the blood in the sea, and that stopped feeling like anything, too.

His sensei, an old teammate of his father’s, told Tsubame that he was strong. Tsubame didn’t feel strong, but he didn’t know how to explain what he did feel. 

On days when he didn’t have any training to do or a mission to go on, days he might otherwise have spent with his brother, he went to the canal and drifted with the current, letting the water cover him until everything but his face was submerged. His brother was too busy most of the time, suffering through fittings for formal clothes, and when he wasn’t busy he looked too stressed for Tsubame to want to bother him. 

Sometimes he caught his brother going into their parents’ room, when he went out in the middle of the night to get a cup of water, but he didn’t dare find out why. 

Tsubame drifted. 

Someone remembered that he existed, and he got pressed into the wedding preparations as well, getting fitted for new formal wear and assisting with folding invitations while the adults wrote them out, at least until he broke his arm on a mission and was then let off from wedding preparation duty.

The shinobi from Iwa had grabbed hold of his hair, which now reached halfway down his upper arm; Tsubame could have cut it to get free, but he hadn’t wanted to, so he’d pulled a riskier move instead. And now his arm was broken, but he hadn’t cut his hair. 

His father heard about what happened from his sensei. He’d called Tsubame vain and foolish and told him to cut his hair. Tsubame had dared to refuse and gotten smacked across the cheek for it, but his father had been called away by the elders before he could make Tsubame cut his hair. 

Tsubame hadn’t run into his brother since coming home from the mission. He’d been with the medics first, getting his arm tended to, and then his father had summoned him. Now, Tsubame was off duty until his arm healed all the way, but his brother was busy with wedding preparations, talking to maids and clan members and elders and their father, the tension in his eyes growing with every conversation. 

Tsubame didn’t find him alone until he was supposed to be going to bed, and he’d stopped by his brother’s room in the hope that he would be available to brush Tsubame’s hair for him, since it was harder than expected with only one arm. 

He was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, and for a moment Tsubame hesitated at the door, not wanting to bother him. He crept closer, but his brother didn’t look up. 

“Nii-san?” 

“Don’t call me that!” 

Tsubame flinched back; his brother jerked up, his hand reaching out to Tsubame before pulling back again. “Sorry,” he said, his hands still hovering in the space between them. “I’m sorry, Tsubame, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” 

“It’s okay,” Tsubame said, even though his heart was still hammering against his ribs. “What’s wrong, ni—I mean—” 

Tsubame fumbled over the words, unsure what to say if not “nii-san.” He settled on his brother’s name, at last, but before he could say it, his brother’s hand landed over his mouth. 

“Not that,” his brother said, almost pleading. “Don’t call me that.” 

“But it’s your name,” Tsubame said. His brother pulled his hand back, running it through his hair, and breathed in shakily. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” his brother said.

Tsubame drifted, unmoored. “Please don’t leave,” he whispered. 

His brother said nothing. 

“I don’t understand,” Tsubame said.

His brother said nothing. 

“Please,” Tsubame said, “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what to do. How do I make you better?” 

His brother laughed, the sound as sharp and jagged as broken glass. “You can’t make me better, Tsubame.” 

Tsubame wished, desperately, that their mother was there. She always knew what to do. She always knew how to make Tsubame happy when he was hurt or upset. “How do I make you happy?” 

His brother shook his head. “You can’t just make people happy, Tsubame.” 

“You do,” Tsubame said. “You’re my _brother _.” 

“I don’t want to be!” 

Tsubame stepped back, a pain sharper than when he’d broken his arm lancing through him. His brother made a horrible, choked-off noise, and the pain only worsened as Tsubame realized he was crying. 

“That’s not who I am,” his brother cried. “I can’t do it anymore. I _tried _, I tried to be that person, and I can’t. I can’t be him.” 

“I don’t care!” Tsubame said, and now he was crying too. “I don’t _care _, I love you, don’t go!” 

He fell forward, and his brother caught him. Tsubame grabbed onto him desperately, as if that would prevent him from leaving. “I’ll be strong, I’ll be a good shinobi, but please don’t go! I—I’ll cut my hair!” 

His brother sobbed a laugh. “No, don’t. Don’t do that, Mom loved your hair. _You _love your hair.” 

“I love you more,” Tsubame said. 

“Even if I’m not your brother?” He hesitated. “Even if—even if I was your sister, instead?” 

Tsubame blinked the tears out of his eyes. “But you aren’t.” 

“I am.” He took Tsubame’s hand and pressed it to his chest. “Inside, where it counts.” 

Tsubame shook his head. “I don’t care. I don’t care, just please don’t go.” 

“Then call me your sister. Call me Tsubasa. If—even if it’s just you, I think it’ll help.” 

“Okay, Tsubasa,” Tsubame said. “Nee-san.” 

He didn’t understand, not really, but Tsubasa smiled down at him, happier than he’d ever seen her before, and for once he felt happy, too. 

***

“This is why I’ve been going into Father’s room,” Tsubasa said, opening up the closet in their father’s bedroom. Tsubame’s mouth fell open as she revealed the array of colors held within, kimono in every shade and pattern imaginable. 

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Tsubasa said, carefully running her fingers over one of them. “I wanted to—but there aren’t enough of them. Father would notice if one went missing. And it takes too long to put on, so I couldn’t just try it on here. He might come in.” 

Tsubame reached out and ran his fingers over the nearest one, marvelling at the feeling of silk under his fingers. All of his clothes were plain and practical, meant for the battlefield. Their mother had been a kunoichi, but she’d always worn a kimono at home. They still smelled like her. 

Tsubasa, the better sensor, glanced towards their father’s side of the house. “He’s leaving his office,” she said, ushering Tsubame towards the door. “You should be in bed.” 

Tsubame dragged his heels. “Can I sleep in your bed?” 

“Not tonight,” she said, moving steadfastly on to his room, tucking him into bed without giving him another chance to protest. 

The tiredness hit him almost as soon as he was under the covers. He suppressed a yawn as Tsubasa went around the room, turning off the lights. He was almost asleep when she knelt down at his side. 

“Hold out your hand,” she murmured. 

Tsubame stuck a hand out of the covers, and she placed something small into his hand. He closed his fingers around it—it was a small pouch with something stuffed inside, but he wasn’t sure why she had given it to him.

“Smell it,” she said. 

Tsubame held the pouch up to his nose and breathed in, immediately struck by the familiar scent. “Oh.” 

“Mom always put them in her clothes,” Tsubasa said. “I can get you more, she had a lot of them.” 

“Thanks, Nee-san,” he murmured, the familiar scent and the warmth of the blankets quickly lulling him to sleep. 

He could feel Tsubasa’s smile as she kissed his forehead. “Sleep well, Tsubame.” 

He didn’t sleep well, exactly, with his arm still hurting, but he slept. He woke when his arm hurt too much to sleep anymore, and went to seek out breakfast and his dose of painkillers for the day. 

To his surprise, Tsubasa was at the table. “Good morning,” she said. “I thought we could spend some time together today.” 

“You don’t have stuff to do?”

“Not today,” she said. 

Tsubame ate quickly, not wanting someone to suddenly remember Tsubasa did have something to do and interrupt them before they could leave. They retreated to the guest house, where Tsunade and her family stayed on the rare occasions that they visited Uzushio, since no one went there when people weren’t staying there. They spread out their fuinjutsu materials over the table, uncaring of the mess they were making, and worked on their projects. Tsubame was learning medical fuinjutsu—his mother had been good at it, and he thought it seemed useful. She had left a lot of journals behind, which he was reading through carefully, trying out the seals contained within only when he was certain about how they worked. 

It was intensive work; he barely noticed when Tsubasa left the table, only fully realizing that she had gone when he looked up to ask her a question. He could hear her talking outside, though, so he grabbed the journal and went to find her. 

“Nee-san?” he called, freezing as he opened the door and spotted his father on the other side. 

“Nee-san?” His father’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed Tsubasa by the arm, yanking her forwards. “I thought I told you to stop this foolishness years ago.” 

“It isn’t foolishness,” Tsubasa said, her voice quiet and dangerous. 

“I won’t have—!” 

Tsubasa held up a hand, cutting him off. “Tsubame. Go back to the main house.” 

“But—” 

“Go back,” she said. “Everything is fine.” 

Slowly, Tsubame edged out from behind her and stepped around their father, careful not to get within his reach. Tsubasa watched him until he reached the door to the main house and closed it behind him, cutting them off. 

He stayed at the door, trying to listen. He could hear his father yelling and Tsubasa yelling, but he couldn’t actually make out any of the words. Eventually, they fell silent and approached the door. He jumped back just in time to get out of the way as his father yanked it open and stormed into the house. 

“Go to your room,” Tsubasa said, tired but grimly determined. “I’ll get you when we’re done.” 

Tsubame hesitated, but at a firm look from Tsubasa slowly retreated to his room. The yelling was even harder to make out from here, but he could tell that the elders had gotten involved. The argument continued long into the night, so long that the maids actually brought dinner to his room, so long that he fell asleep before it was concluded. 

When he woke up, it was to Tsubasa opening his door in the early hours over the morning. “We’re done,” she said, her voice hoarse from yelling. “I thought you’d want to know.” 

“What happened?” he asked blearily. 

“They understand the situation,” Tsubasa said, in a voice that booked no arguments. “If Father tries to hit you again, tell me immediately.” 

Tsubame couldn’t help but wonder what exactly they’d argued about, when it clearly hadn’t just been about Tsubasa, but he didn’t want to pester her when she was so clearly exhausted. “I will,” he promised. 

“Good,” she sighed. “If you like . . . Father agreed to let you go to Konoha while your arm heals, to spend some time with Ba-san and the Senju clan. I think it would be good for you.” 

“But what about you?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine now,” she said. “I’ll be busy with preparations for the wedding. And Konoha has better medical facilities than we do—they might be able to speed your healing along.” 

He blinked slowly, too tired to really think it through. She smiled at him. “I’ll let you sleep. Think about it, and let me know tomorrow what you want to do.” 

***

Konoha had been nice. Tsubame had spent a total of two weeks there, spending time with Tsunade and her new baby brother and her team, occasionally visiting the hospital to have them check over his arm. The cast had come off only a few days before he left, two weeks earlier than the medics at Uzushio had predicted, so some good had come of the visit. Still, he missed Uzushio; it had been strange being somewhere with so little water. 

He expected the village to be as hectic as when he had left, busy with preparations for the wedding, but to his surprise the clan compound was quieter than it had been in weeks. His relatives eagerly welcomed him back, as energetic and cheerful as ever, but the house was quieter than it had been when he left. 

He headed to the bedrooms, but stopped at Tsubasa’s instead of his own, He slid open the door and found her inside at her desk, relieving him of the fear he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying. 

“Tsubame,” she said, turning to smile at him. “Welcome home.” 

“I’m home,” he said. “You’re not busy?” 

“Only with fuinjutsu,” she said, still smiling, lighter than he’d seen her in weeks. “They called off the wedding.” 

“What? Why?” 

“She didn’t want to marry me after all,” Tsubasa said, with a small, delighted laugh. “Imagine, the whole thing, an alliance between villages, called off because a princess threw a fit. And here I was ready to throw everything away for someone who’s never heard of sacrifice in her life.” 

“Good,” Tsubame decided. “You didn’t want to marry her anyways. She was probably horrible.” 

Tsubasa laughed. “Undoubtedly,” she said, beckoning him over. “Come here, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on. It turns out that having weddings cancelled is great for inspiration.” 

Tsubame knelt down at her side, peering at the seal spread across her desk. “What is it?” 

“Not sure yet,” she said, and dipped her brush in ink. “I’ll let you know once I figure it out.” 


End file.
